NGE: A Century Apart
by Archangel38
Summary: Different times make different heroes. What is the the impact of 100 years of human history? An Alternate Universe, created under the premise that the Angels attacked in 1915 instead of 2015.
1. Chapter 1

The year is 1900. Japan, opened by Commander Perry's fleet of black ships not 50 years ago, is fast on its way to become a power of the same rank as Germany, France, Russia and others. These powers sent expeditions to the last unknown areas of the world to make scientific discoveries and to gain the prestige these discoveries brought with them. Japan, as with all its actions of the time, wants very much to be accepted as an equal on this field as well, and sends the Katsuragi expedition to Antarctica, so that part of it be claimed by the empire of the rising sun.

The Expedition perished in the catastrophe that would be known as Second Impact. That, at least, is the official story.

Known to the Emperor and a few of his most trusted advisors is another story: The expedition stumbled over something it really should not have. Something that had been sleeping there since the dawn of time.

Known to very, very few people on the planet is the truth: The expedition did not stumble.

_Imperial Naval Academy,_  
_Kobe_  
_June 13, 1915_

"At the end of the 19th century, Japan was widely regarded as a second rate power. While it had defeated China in the war of 1895, the great powers of the world did not consider this a real show of ability. Second Impact changed that. Today, it is without a doubt one of the great powers of the world. The Imperial Navy is the third largest in the world, after the German Hochseeflotte and the United States Navy, and ties with the later in the number of heavy battleships in the Pacific. Our industrial capacity is the 5th largest, after the United States', Germany's, France's and Russia's. Our population ranks us third after, again, the United States and Germany. However, the Americans still maintain their isolationist policy and still labor under the aftermaths of the second Civil War in 50 years."

He gave a short glance to his papers.

"The most likely strategic opponents that Japan has to face are therefore Germany and France, in order of threat the pose to us. The Russians won't be able to make good the loses of their East Asian Fleet for at least another 5 years, and they can not redeploy ships from other areas. The North East Atlantic Fleet can not be sent to reinforce the few ships they have in the Pacific because that would shift the balance of power towards Germany in the European theater. While the Russian Army could certainly try and attack Japans holdings in Manchuria and in Korea, doing so would oblige Germany to come to our aid as the conditions of the Mutual Assistance Treaty demand. Russia can not win a two front war on two sides of its landmass."

"The Americans, as I said, continue their self imposed exile from the world. Unless one actively attacks them, they will remain in their hemisphere. They do, however, account for 52% of Japans iron ore imports and 34% of it's coal and oil imports, which gives them a position from which they could attempt to apply economic pressure on us. Japan should, therefore, work to improve it's trade relations with other nations and further develop its own territories to become self sufficient. As it stands, our foreign policy regarding the United States is determined by the price of iron ore. If iron ore is cheap, and supply is plenty, we can afford to let our relations to the United States suffer. If the price is high, we must make amends. This is no way for a great power to do business."

"France and Germany are the two major antagonists on the European continent. While Germany was hit harder by Second Impact, losing most of its coastal plains, and with it most of its maritime trade and ship building infrastructure, it did win the Second Franco-German War. Even though Germany is allied to us now, we should be under no illusions that this not an alliance of convenience. Germany needs time to rebuild its naval infrastructure, and is ordering new ships built in Japan until it has done so. In return, it supplies us with artillery and aeroplane technology, as well as most of the Zeppelins currently in service with the Imperial Navy and Army. However, Germany's global ambitions will sooner or later bring it into conflict with Japan's own, perhaps as soon as the two heavy battleships currently being built in Japan are finished and on their way to Germany. The first, designated Kurf rst, will be finished in fall 1916, the second, as yet unnamed, in summer 1917."

"France will pounce on any conflict that draws Germany's attention away from Europe - such as a war against a great power on the other side of the world - to regain the areas lost in the two Franco-German wars. It is therefore advisable that Japan does not alienate France too much. Her African colonies can serve the Navy as bases in any conflict with Germany, and it would be our natural ally in such a conflict. For the time being, however, Japan should continue to remain allied to Germany until the time comes when it is advantageous to break the alliance and to side with France to protect our vital interests."

Mouth dry from speaking and legs a little weak from standing so long, he waited for the teachers verdict. In retrospect, he had probably put too much of his own opinion into it. He had not referenced Clausewitz at any point, and had even decided not to put in the almost obligatory Mahan quotes. That could well be his undoing. Granted, Machiavelli would have approved of his final conclusion, but...

"Well done, Mr. Ikari. Mr. Nakao, what are Japans vital interests?"

He all but collapsed into his chair, while the other cadet behind him rose to answer the teacher.

"To protect the sea lanes between her island holdings, her trade relations with the outer world, her colonies in China..."

_Imperial Naval Academy,_  
_Kobe_  
_June 14, 1915_

It was lunchtime, and with the mess hall full, it took the courier some time to find Shinji. After all, he was just one head bowed over his bowl of rice amongst hundreds, all with the same short cut hair. But eventually he had found the right person. Or at least he thought he had.

Shinji, apparently engrossed in his rice, took some time to notice the man dressed in the uniform of the naval air forces. By the time he looked up at the man, most of the mess hall had stopped eating and stared at the ensign still munching his rice and the man towering above him and holding a salute for 5 minutes now.

After he had looked to his left and right and saw people looking expectantly at him, he rose from his seat and returned the salute. The pilot dropped his.

"Ensign Ikari?" he asked, and when Shinji nodded he held out an envelope. After Shinji took it, he gave a small bow and turned to leave. 400 pairs of eyes watched him go in complete silence. The moment his steps had taken him past the entry of the mess hall, the room exploded into noise.

Shinji still stared at the piece of paper he had been handed. Who would send him a letter by such a high profile delivery service? It was most puzzling.

"Aren't you going to open it?" asked the boy next to him, and Shinji found that the room had gone silent again, everyone apparently wondering why he was still standing around like an idiot. Feeling the eyes of the room on him and blushing madly, Shinji dropped back to his seat. While this did get him out of the view of most of the room, which meant the noise level increased accordingly again, it did not bring him out of sight of the people he was sitting with, all of whom were still looking at him. Giving a mental sigh, he broke the seal and ripped open the envelope.

Inside was, little surprising, a letter. What was surprising was the red border around it, which meant the highest level of security of the Imperial Navy. That, together with the fact that they had decided to send a courier plane meant that whoever had sent it had wanted to make sure that he, and only he, would know what was on it. And that meant reading it in the mess hall would probably be a bad idea.

Normally, one would expect Shinji to finish his meal and look at the letter when he had the time. However, mail calls at the Imperial Naval Academy were very strictly regulated and happened every Sunday. No exceptions. Another cadet had learned that his mother had died on a Monday on the Sunday after. The fact that someone had sent him a letter, had assigned it the highest level of security and had even bothered to send a courier, who was allowed to deliver the letter on the spot meant it had to be read as soon as possible. So Shinji decided to skip the rest of his meal and left the mess hall in a hurry.

After he had found a reasonably quiet spot outside, he opened the envelope again and finally had a good look at its contents. Two sheets of paper were inside, one marked with the red border of highest security, one without. He pulled out the more important one first, read it over and boggled. There was only a single word on it - "Come." He turned the page over, held it against the light and even shook it a little in the hopes of getting a little more out of it, but it was in vain. Only one word remained on the page, and it did not really help him much. Though, to be fair, Shinji had a fairly good idea who would write him such a letter, and who could command such resources After all, his enrolling at the Naval Academy was not his own decision, and it had been his fathers influence who got him there. A well protected home (armed guards stood at every entrance all the time) with regular, if somewhat dull meals was something very much sought after following Second Impact, and the Academy preferred the children of ranking Navy officers. The problem was that they hadn't met in 3 years, and Shinji, frankly, did not really know where his father was right now. Never mind the fact that they would hardly let him leave the Academy on a simple "Come".

Fortunately for him, the second sheet of paper solved these problems for him. It was something he was a lot more comfortable with, a clear set of orders:

"Ensign Shinji Ikari, you are hereby ordered to make all possible haste to Tokyo and report to Captain Ryouji. Use whatever means at your disposal to ensure your timely arrival. Delay in this at your own peril. Your arrival at Tokyo Naval base is expected no later than June 16th, 0800 hours."

Signed Admiral Kataoka, of the First Home Defense Fleet. It was as clear and as blunt an order as he had ever been given, but at least he knew where to go and what to do. First, however, he would have to convince the head of the Academy to let him go.

_Imperial Navy Academy,_  
_Kobe_  
_June 14, 1915_

As it turned out, Shinji needn't have worried, for Vice Admiral Kondo held up a letter of his own the moment he had stepped into his office and saluted. It had the familiar red border, apparently brought by the very same courier that had sought out Shinji in the mess hall to deliver the letter he was holding in his own hand.

"Mr. Ikari, I was wondering if I had to send out a search party. One would assume that you would be quicker in answering a call of such importance."

Shinji blinked. He had come here as fast as he reasonably could.

"Sir, I...the courier..."

The look on Admiral Kondos face made further defensive measures futile.

"It was my fault, Sir. No excuses, Sir." he said, giving a small bow. The admiral gave a short grunt of acceptance and motioned Shinji to take a seat.

"Mr. Ikari, I will be frank. I don't have any idea why they have ordered you to Tokyo. You are not our best student. You have yet to graduate. Perhaps even more importantly, it is not like we are lacking in naval officers without a post, so we shouldn't have to send out half-trained ensigns. But I can not argue with these orders." He waved with the letter, the gesture telling Shinji what he thought of them.

"You may go. We will send your graduation papers and personal belongings to your new post. It does say 'all possible haste' after all."  
Shinji rose, saluted, and turned to leave. Before he could make two steps, the admiral said,  
"And one last thing, Mr. Ikari. My orders state that you are going on a combat deployment. While I wouldn't know what you could possibly fight in Tokyo except for boredom, it is still part of my orders. You know what this means, right?"

Shinji nodded, thunderstruck. At least, this explained why Admiral Kondo was so hostile. It was tradition in the Imperial Navy that each officer, from ensign to admiral, received a sword when they left on their first combat deployment, or upon returning from one if high command had not considered the area they were sent to as a potential combat zone. That weapon stayed with them wherever they went after, meaning that every naval officer who wore a sword was guaranteed to have been in combat - or at least close enough to it. As a result, the navy's officer corps was essentially split in two: Those with swords, and those without. Getting a sword was a great honor, representing that one had put ones life on the line to defend Japan. Not to mention that it was a good career boost. It usually took a graduated naval officer years until he got his sword, and Shinji had expected to spend the next 15 years commanding garbage chutes and yard vessels before he would even have a chance at receiving a sword. In fact, Admiral Kondo had gotten his only 6 years ago, when he commanded a cruiser leading an anti-piracy task force along the Chinese coast, some 8 years after his graduation. And that had been considered quick. To be given a sword right out of the Academy was unheard of, and no doubt the admiral felt that Shinji had not earned it. Shinji was inclined to agree.

Before the admiral could voice any further strange details of Shinjis transfer to Tokyo - like if the name Ryouji rang any bells - Shinji left the office and headed for the quartermasters office. Once there, he was once more told he was late, once more acknowledged his own fault for not being there sooner, and after showing his papers once more to ensure everything was as it should be, a very confused quartermaster handed an equally confused Shinji a sword.

He could not make heads or tails from it. Tokyo was not a combat zone. If he was to be shipped elsewhere, he would receive his orders and any potential swords in Tokyo, not at the Academy. To be sent to Tokyo with a sword meant that Tokyo was a very dangerous place - or would be soon enough. For the first time in his life, Shinji came to grips with the fact that he was part of his country's armed forces, and the current global situation meant there was a good chance he would die in its service. He preferred not to dwell on it, pushed such thoughts far away and went on his way to the airstrip near Kobe.

_Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,_  
_Halfway between Kobe and Tokyo_  
_June 14, 1915, Evening_

Shinji starred out of the window of the Zeppelin, watching the hills below stream past. Part of him could not believe that this was happening. When he had arrived at the airstrip he had almost expected to be told that no, 'any means at your disposal' did not mean 'any means' but 'take the train, you idiot'. Being a soldier actually meant he was allowed to take trains for transportation - they were otherwise strictly for cargo transport. There simply weren't enough engines to have passenger trains and enough cargo transport to keep the economy going. Certainly, more and more cargo between coastal towns - and Second Impact had ensured that there were a lot more coastal towns than there used to be - was done by ships, but those had to compete with military vessels for yard capacity, and with the rising sea level a strong navy had become even more important. Not to mention that Second Impact had also destroyed most of Japan's coastal infrastructure, and thus loading and unloading capacity was still a major bottleneck.

But there had been no problem. He had shown his marching orders to the loading officer, making very sure he noticed the red border and the phrase 'any means at your disposal', the officer had looked at the orders, then looked at him, then looked at the sword that Shinji had in his belt and apparently came to the conclusion that he was not being paid enough to worry about it. So he sent Shinji to the one he thought was being paid enough to worry about it. The captain of the Hiryu had looked at the orders, then looked at Shinji, then looked at the orders again, then glanced at the sword and finally had welcomed Shinji aboard.

The captain had been standing behind Shinji for several minutes now, and he had started to wonder if he should do something about it. It wasn't so much the presence of the man (though as far as Shinji was concerned, he would feel much better with him on the bridge), but he insisted on making those noises people make when they wanted to talk to someone but were not sure if it was proper. Considering that the captain of the Hiryu was about three times as old as he was, Shinji found it all quite silly. It was probably the sword. Swords always made people nervous. After all, the right of the Samurai to wear swords had been abolished only some 40 years ago, and the Navy had instituted its tradition pretty much immediately after. Part of that may have been the large number of former Samurai in the officer ranks. Century old habits died hard.

And that meant that it was Shinji who had to break the ice.

"A beautiful view. You are a lucky man to hold a command with such a great view." he said, gesturing to Mount Fuji rising in the distance.

The captain looked like Shinji had just told him he was running a terrible ship and that he was doing the empire a great dishonor by it.

"Beg your pardon, Sir, but we wouldn't normally having the pleasure of the view from this point. We have a strong wind from the south, and have changed course accordingly. We would pass Tokyo to its north otherwise and would have to move against the wind to the landing site."

"Oh." Shinji blinked. "I hope this won't delay us too much?"

"Shouldn't be more than 30 minutes. Again, Sir I apologize, but we can't do anything about the wind, and..."

Shinji waved him off.

"It is alright captain. You are doing all you can, I am sure."

With a short bow the captain turned to leave, leaving Shinji to wonder why he had not sent someone else to deliver the simple message that they would be late by about half an hour. Then again, the other passengers - almost all high ranking government officials, by the looks of it, except for a small group of Army officers (without swords, a small but useful part of his mind noted) who were looking rather angrily in his direction - kept their distance from him as well. And, Shinji noted, had not been deemed important enough to be told about the delay.

_First Home Defense Fleet Combat Headquarters,_  
_overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_June 15, 1915, Morning_

Gendo Ikari knew that war was chaos, and that battle was anarchy. The so called Art of War was little more than the art of building a dam to stem a tidal wave and point it in the direction one wanted it to take. Yet still, it was always amusing to see men think they could really, truly control a battle. Especially the moment when they realized they really couldn't, much like the commanding general of the Imperial Guards Division was doing now.

"NO! NO! What is he doing?"

This had gone on for a good hour now. A message from the battlefield would come in, and the general would immediately shout out orders that would be outdated by the time they reached the units they were meant for (if those units still existed), and when the reply was back the general would shout again. Had Gendo not known better, he would have assumed the general could only communicate by shouting.

"What do you mean 'he is retreating'! I told him to hold at all costs! Runner!"

Gendo stared impassively as the general dictated a rather scanting message for his hapless subordinate, telling him that he and his soldiers were guardsmen, not some levied peasants, though he would make sure they would fight as levied peasants in the next war if they did not hold. Considering that they would have to survive the battle first to be punished, and considering that they hadn't done so much as slow the enemy down, Gendo expected the commander of the First Regiment of the Guard (or rather what was left of it) to take his chances. Not that he could blame him. Infantry were simply not able to hurt what they were up against here. A fact that the loudest man in the command center was very slow to learn, to the misfortune of his men.

"Where is the damn Navy! Ikari!"

Gendo shot a look to a member of his staff, a young brunette woman in the uniform of the Fleet Support Service. Perhaps this example would rub off on the good general and he could command the battle in a quieter manner.

"First Scouting Squadron made steam as soon as the enemy passed Yokohama Naval Base. They should be moving towards Tokyo Bay as we speak. If they run ahead full they should be on the scene within the next 20 minutes." Someone handed her a report. "First Naval Aviation Squadron has acknowledged our request for assistance and is assembling a strike force now. They should be able to make their run within the hour."

The general gave a derisive snort.

"Should! Should! All I hear is should! Is that what His Majesty's Navy has to offer to defend the capital from destruction? Vague promises while the Guard stands firm and dies to allow His Majesty to reach safety?"

He could have answered that the Guard obviously did not stand very firm at all, considering that its general had to remove two battalion commanders, both with numerous commendations for bravery, for what he called cowardice and what Gendo called a predictable sense of self preservation. He chose to remain silent. After all, that the Guard died was not in doubt. That their deaths had any kind of effect on the enemy was very much so.  
But for now, they kept the enemy occupied, and if everything went as he expected it to, they would not have to bear the brunt of the fighting much longer. And if the Guard fell in the time it took until his son got here, well, that was what the Navy was there for.

"Reinforcements are on the way. I will be outside to observe the battle. Mr. Fuyutsuki will take over."

The general had already gone back to the map to find out that for some inexplicable but probably very logical reason, his men died where they stood or ran so they didn't.

_Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,_  
_approaching Tokyo Bay_  
_June 15, 1915, late Morning_

Shinji had slept well and relished in having a bathroom for himself, small though it may have been, before eating a good breakfast. He thought himself more than ready for whatever battle awaited him in Tokyo. The captain had assured him (and, to his continued embarrassment, only him) that they would be on time. It was therefore with some surprise that he noted that the airship had turned around again - he could see the sea south of Tokyo to the left of the Zeppelin, when it should have been to the right - and was apparently heading in the wrong direction. When the airship changed course again to the north, away from the coast, the passengers started to talk quietly amongst each other. Some of the people, Shinji assumed, used the Airship Service more often than he had (more than once, that is), and their nervousness was not a good sign either.

He had been educated in the tradition of the Imperial Navy, which had kept Japan save during the bloody wars that swept the globe in the aftermath of Second Impact. A navy officer, he had been taught, never waited for someone to solve a situation. When the situation required it, he would take command and use his own judgment to do what he thought was right in this situation. The most vivid example given was the story of a young ensign, fresh from Kobe Academy (and the story probably told for that very reason), who, after the cruiser he had been on had been swept out of the harbor in the initial tidal wave that heralded Second Impact, took command of it because most of the senior officers had been on land at the time (and therefore dead) and the third officer, the ranking captain of the ship had been thrown overboard and lost in the turmoil. He continued to run the ship for 2 weeks before they could find a harbor that was not blocked by debris, sinking into the ocean or involved in a hunger revolt.

This example Shinji had in mind when he decided to pay the captain a visit.

_Aboard Imperial Navy battle cruiser Kongo_  
_Tokyo Bay_  
_June 15, 1915, midday_

The palace still stood. That was the first thing rear admiral Yamamoto noticed. And there was a giant green...monster...demon...thing happily destroying most of the city around it. From time to time, explosions from what he thought were army or perhaps coastal artillery guns would make it stumble back, only to right itself immediately and continue on its way. It did seem to be going for the palace grounds. Why it had not reached them, Yamamoto could not comprehend, it did not seem like the defenders had made any impression on it.

"The last message we received of Fleet Headquarters said the Emperor has left the city. We don't have to worry about hitting the palace." his radio officer reported.

Yamamoto smiled. "Lets still try and keep it intact. We don't want High Command to think we would serve the Emperor better as military attaches to Andorra."

The dry chuckles of the bridge officers sounded a bit forced, Yamamoto thought. But still, he had to maintain the facade. If their commanding officer showed nervousness, it would only spread. He noted with some satisfaction that Captain Matsuoka seemed completely untroubled by the situation, his face looking almost like he was terribly bored by it. There was a fine line between showing indifference towards the enemy and showing contempt, the later almost always asking for a humbling defeat.

"Signal the squadron to form line astern and prepare for a course change 30 degrees starboard to expose our rear guns. Once all ships have made the turn the squadron will slow to a stop, drop anchor and shell the enemy. I want the first salvo to be fired in sequence, after that every ship fires as soon as it has reloaded. That should allow a good compromise between rate of fire and observation of shell drop."

The last was a major problem well known to any navy officer. On the one hand, one wanted to keep up the highest rate of fire possible in battle. Yet at the same time, one had to observe the drop of the shell to adjust the range. Not as much of a problem when both sides had the same amount of ships, as one could assign every ship one target and avoid the problem entirely. It was more problematic if one side has less ships than the other, or even just one. Unless strict fire discipline was kept, the ships could not identify which shells were theirs and could not adjust their fire accordingly. Yamamoto himself owed his life to this very problem, when the cruiser he commanded in 1911 had run into the entire Pacific Fleet of the Empire of India, Australia, New Zealand and Britain (not to be confused with the Republic of Australia, New Zealand and Britain, which actually controlled Australia and New Zealand, and also not to be mistaken for one of the other three Empires of India and Britain, and certainly not to be taken for the Empire of Hong Kong, India and Britain in Exile). In a very confusing night battle, he managed to extract his ship with minimal damage because the enemy had opened fire indiscriminately, which earned him a (unfounded, in his opinion) reputation as a tactical genius.

The Kongo had made the turn as ordered and was training her 38 cm guns on the green giant still rampaging around the city. The explosions had stopped, which either meant the artillery pieces the army had in the area had run out of ammunition or out of people to fire them.

Captain Matsuoka looked across the bridge to Yamamoto.

"Sir, we are ready to engage the target at your command."

"Fight your ship, captain." Yamamoto said and stepped to the bridge window to observe the fight. His job was done. He had made a plan, instructed his men and set it into motion. Now he just had to wait and observe, to make adjustments to the plan if that would prove necessary. Running the ship was the captain's job, not his. After a short pause, Matsuoka gave the command to open fire. The bridge shook as Kongo sent the first 8 shells across the bay towards the target. Behind her, Haruna had made the turn and Hiei was starting into it. A short moment later, a roar from behind told them that Haruna had fired her salvo. Another few seconds and Kongo's shells landed, giant explosions around the enemy throwing columns of smoke and debris high into the air.

"A good spread on the first salvo, captain. Tell your gunners that I am very impressed."

Captain Matsuoka gave a silent nod. Yamamoto looked back through his binoculars. When the smoke cleared, the abomination still stood, but apparently was very confused what just happened. Then Haruna's shells impacted all across the area, making further observation impossible. He lowered his binoculars.

"We are firing high explosive shells, is that correct?" he asked the captain, who nodded.

"As is standard procedure when shelling a land target."

"Well," the Admiral said, "we aren't shelling an army in the open. Its a big target, more like a battleship on land. And so far we haven't made an impression on it at all."

"Begging the Admirals pardon, but we have only just started the bombardment, surely..."

The smoke had cleared again, and in the brief moment before Hiei's salvo made direct observation impossible again, they could both see that the enemy still stood tall, not a sign of damage visible on his body. But it had turned around, and so the men on Kongo's bridge could see the strange avian mask looking at them.

"Is that its...head?"

"We don't even know if it is alive!"

"Should we aim for it anyway?"

One of Hiei's shells produced a direct hit on the enemy, apparent because, for a brief moment, a strange hexagonal shine could be seen. Yamamoto wasn't sure what it was, but did not like the look of it at all. When the haze cleared, the enemy still stood as if nothing had happened. The admiral turned towards his signal officer.

"Signal the fleet to switch to armor piercing rounds. Tell the Kirishima to remain on High Explosives for the time being."

The man gave a short nod and went to to carry out his orders, when the Kongo suddenly lurched to the right while her bow swept to the left. Yamamoto barely avoided being swept off his feet.

"Are we hit?" shouted a voice over the general mayhem, as the officers and the men manning the various stations all tumbled around the bridge.

"Fire astern!" screamed another, causing every head on the bridge to turn to the rear of the ship, only to see what appeared as a giant cross made of light quickly fade and be replaced by a big black column of smoke, rising from between Kongo's two rear turrets, that told of a huge fire burning below decks.

Yamamoto really hoped that what he just saw had just been a trick of the light of the midday sun. He began to get the familiar but uncomfortable feeling of being hopelessly outmatched. Meanwhile, Matsuoka was fighting to save his ship.

"Flood the aft magazine! If the fire reaches it, we're..." he did not finish, but an enormous explosion did show everyone what would happen if a fire reached the giant storerooms of powder and explosives that held the ammunition for Kongo's rear turrets. The force of the explosion lifted her clear out of the water, before gravity took over again and she slammed back down. When Yamamoto came back to his feet he noted with some shock that only the forward half of Kongo was still there, everything aft of the rear funnel was just gone. And the forward half was sinking fast, no amount of damage control or watertight compartments being able to stem this amount of destruction. With her engines, screws and steering gone, Kongo and the admiral aboard her had become little more than observers in the increasingly one sided battle.

_Temporary combat headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet,_  
_Overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_June 15, 1915, Midday_

The men observing the battle from a small hill looked with growing horror at the destruction wrought by the enemy on the powerful fleet that had sailed to save the city. In the second shot, it had ripped off one of Haruna's forward turrets, and when the ships had turned, had fired a third shot into Haruna's back, slicing of her funnels and bridge. Robbed of her steering and command, the battle cruiser kept turning around while her crew fought to regain control of her course.

All of the men, that is, except for Gendo Ikari, who remained stoic in face of destruction, and the man standing next to him. While the latter was exhibiting an air of almost forced carelessness about the damage being inflicted on the once proud ships, the former kept his face from displaying any hint of surprise or shock. It was at if he had neither expected any other outcome, nor had he hoped against reason for it.

"Interesting. It can adapt its combat abilities to suit its needs." the man with the highly unmilitary ponytail said.

"Of course it can. Without reconnaissance before the battle, the enemy had to either send a force able to deal with whatever we threw at it, or a single unit that could adapt to a changing situation. They chose the later. This means that we can not beat it by changing tactics. We will have to beat it by force instead."

Hiei and Kirishima, the last two combat capable warships left of the small flotilla that had engaged the monster in the city not 15 minutes ago, had completed their turns and were steaming away at full speed, their captains apparently deciding that sacrificing their ships here served no real purpose. Haruna was still steaming in circles. The green giant now focused back onto it, but apparently had trouble hitting a target not moving in a straight line, and so sent huge columns of water and steam, as well as strange cross shaped pillars of light, into the air all around the stricken ship.

Neither of the two men seemed too concerned with its fight of survival.

"And what now? Do you want me to sortie in Unit 01?" asked the man with the ponytail, but his superior only shook his head.

"That won't be necessary. But I do think a crucial part of our victory is about to arrive." he said, gesturing to a small speck in the sky which a look through a pair of binoculars would have revealed to be a Zeppelin.

_Aboard Imperial Airship Service Zeppelin Hiryu,_  
_approaching Tokyo_  
_about 1 hour earlier_

The bridge of an airship was a small affair, not nearly as spacious as the bridge on a wet navy ship of the same size would be. It was large enough for 4 people to go about their business, but anyone over that number and things got cramped. Airship bridges were not a place for visitors. Still, no one told Shinji to leave. Instead, people did their best to ignore him, even going so far as to squeeze around him when they had to move past him rather than asking him to move. After 10 minutes of this, Shinji thought he had payed enough respect to the proper form, given the circumstances. He cleared his throat. When nothing happened, he did so again, but a bit louder. Still no one acknowledged him. Instead, the people on the bridge seemed to be even more intent on ignoring him. Orders were given and acknowledged a bit louder, as if the crew had to work against a new and very annoying source of noise.

Another 10 minutes passed without any progress, and Shinji finally spoke up.

"Why have we changed course?"

He immediately winced inwardly. That had come out entirely the wrong way, less like a valid question of a curious bystander and more like the question a teacher would ask a student to make him admit his terribly obvious mistake. The effect of the question was quite astonishing. Everyone on the bridge stopped what they were doing and waited to see what happened now. The captain of the Zeppelin, who had up till now stood at the front of the bridge looking out, perhaps as much because he had to as because he wanted to keep his back to Shinji, turned slightly in his direction, so he could look at him over his shoulder.

"I am very sorry, but we received word from the Tokyo air base that the city is under attack. We can not land there." With that, he turned back around, obviously eager to get away from the stranger on his bridge.

The flat tone in which this was delivered made it sound like a perfectly reasonably thing, like the captain had just told him that wind conditions were unfavorable for a landing, or that the landing site had been overrun by monkeys. Therefore, it took a moment for the full meaning to come through. Tokyo was under attack.

"And you are just going to fly in circles while Tokyo burns?"

The captain did not even bother to look at him this time.

"This is not a combat Zeppelin. We have no guns, and we carry no planes. I can not risk the ship, or endanger the passengers. We will have to wait until Tokyo has been secured." he told the window in front of him.

Shinji thought about the orders he had been given. His left hand involuntarily fingered the hilt of the sword in his belt.

Any means at his disposal.

"Make the landing." he said, in a voice very much unlike his own. He had wanted it to sound strong, calm, competent, in charge. Instead, it had come out more like a desperate plea.

The captain did not respond.

Shinji's hand tightened around the sword, his other hand moving to the hilt to draw it out of its sheath. Or at least give the impression that he was about to do so.

"Make the landing." That had come out much better. It was surprising what the feeling of a weapon in his hand had done to his confidence and, consequentially, his voice.

The captain had noticed, too. He turned around to see Shinji standing there in the middle of the small bridge of the airship, a look on his face that tried very hard to be intimidating, and apparently ready to draw his sword and enforce the order.

The two men - or rather, the man in his early forties and the 15 year old boy - stared at each other, as if unaware of the presence of the other people on the bridge, locked in a battle of will. The captain really did not want to attempt a landing. He knew how fragile his ship was, that even a stray bullet - and battlefields had a tendency to produce stray bullets - that hit one of the gas cells would cause the Hiryu to live up to her name and spit fire. Yet on the other hand, he also thought that being run through with a sword by an overzealous teenager wasn't exactly the way he wanted to leave this world. Not that burning to death because said teenager had forced him to drive a giant flying target filled with hydrogen into battle was much better. But as any other person in such a situation, he decided to go with almost certain death in a few minutes over almost certain death now.

Shinji, for his part, was certain that he had failed. That the captain had called his bluff. That he would be thrown off the bridge, and subsequently turned over to the military police after landing, to be tried for attempting to hijack one of the Emperors own airships. And even if they didn't turn him over, he would have failed his orders to report in time. The Imperial Navy accepted very few excuses for such a thing. They would call him a fool for attempting to tell an experienced captain what to do; a fool for taking the airship in the first place when trains were readily available (but less comfortable, meaning that obviously he was unwilling to make even the smallest sacrifice for his country!) and finally a fool for assuming he had rights far above his rank and station. And then, they would kick him out of the Navy and send him back to his father, who would tell him he was even less useful now, before sending him away again.

"Very well. Lay in course for Tokyo airbase."

The helmsman acknowledged the order, and Shinji left the bridge before anyone could see how much his knees shook.

_Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense fleet,_  
_overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_June 15, 1915, midday_

The battle was all but over now. Everyone could see that. The Guard had mostly broken and run, with only small group of very brave - or very fanatic - or very stupid - soldiers attempting to hold the main gate of the Imperial Palace. Apparently, they had not quite realized that the monster they were facing cared very little about walls, and made gates where it needed them.  
Still, Gendo Ikari was confident they would win the battle. Everything had worked as expected, and while the sacrifice of the Guard might appear to have been in vain, the enemy had spent enough time beating on them, blowing up artillery positions and digging out machine gun posts for his final set piece to arrive. He had sent Captain Ryouji to make sure it arrived intact. Gendo figured it would take maybe 15 minutes to get him here, and perhaps another 10 to ensure his cooperation. The problem was that they had just about run out of things to throw at the enemy, and Gendo had his doubts that it would be so kind as to sit around for half an hour while he organized it's defeat.

Rescue arrived with the droning of aircraft engines. Looking up, he could see a flight of planes breaking formation to make their attack runs. He relaxed ever so slightly. If they managed to stall the enemy for a few more minutes, they were saved. Coming straight out of the sun, the first strafing plane caught the enemy by surprise, walking its machine gun fire up its body before breaking off to regain height and repeat the attack. Standard tactic for such an attack was to form a continuous circle of planes gaining height and distance, planes lining up and planes making their attack run, to maintain a steady stream of fire on the enemy. If done right, the constant attack soon eroded the enemy's will to resist, even if it did not outright kill him. The problem in this situation, of course, was that their enemy was not disturbed by their attacks at all, which consequently failed to damage either his ability or his will to fight. But they were buying time. Already, the green giant had stopped advancing towards the palace and was trying to hit the nimble little planes. After he had missed a few, he seemed to ponder what to do for a moment, before rising what passed as a hand and pointing it at the next plane that was diving towards him. The plane completed its run, but at the moment it broke of and turned to climb again, a beam shot out from the creatures hand, slicing clean through the plane, it's burning remains drifting to earth. Their ammunition almost gone, having done no discernible damage to the enemy, and now faced with an opponent that could fight back with impunity, the remaining planes beat a hasty retreat.

Shooting one last glance at the monstrosity as it turned again to make its way to the palace grounds, Gendo Ikari left the small hill he had been standing on for the last 2 hours and went towards the hangar bay, and the first meeting with his son in 3 years.

_Imperial Airship Service airbase,_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, midday_

An unusual sight greeted Shinji when he exited the Zeppelin. Not only that the huge battle he had expected seemed to be over already, but there was even a welcoming committee waiting for him. Admittedly, it was only one man, a naval officer (wearing a sword, the small but useful part of his mind noted) coming straight for him.

"Shinji Ikari, I presume?" the man said smiling.

Shinji stood at attention and raised his hand in salute.

"Ensign Ikari, repo..." he began, but the man waved him off with a grin.

"No time for that, I'm afraid. We will have to hurry. This way." he said and turned around.

He began walking a very brisk pace towards a staff car waiting at the edge of the field, forcing Shinji to run to catch up to him.

They reached the car at about the same time, and the man put the pedal to the floor the moment Shinji collapsed into his seat. He felt himself being pressed into the seat, but the driver seemed not too concerned by his slightly green look.

"I am sorry to have cut short our introduction. I'm Captain Ryouji, Special Naval Landing Forces." To Shinjis horror, he actually held out his hand for him to shake while trying to navigate the narrow streets of Tokyo at a breakneck speed.

At least his introduction explained a few things. The Japanese Marines were noted for being...odd. Shinji always assumed that it was because it took a certain kind of person to storm a beach against machine gun fire. Just like the Special Air Landing Group of the Imperial Army took a certain kind of people, the kind of people that jumped out of perfectly fine air ships while they were several hundred meters up in the air. The SNLF had a reputation for not taking the military dress code too seriously while in the field, and while Ryoujis uniform was spotless, his ponytail was decidedly against regulation. Considering the rest of the SNLFs reputation, Shinji decided not to press that issue. At least not while his survival depended on the continued goodwill of the driver.

"I'm Ensign Ikari, err, I don't have a unit I guess..."

Captain Ryouji grinned again.

"I would say that will be the least of your problems."

Before he could elaborate on what Shinjis more pressing problems would be, something odd caught Shinjis attention. A young man with what appeared to be blue hair, wearing a hospital drab, was standing in the middle of the road. Shinji screamed and Ryouji hit the brakes. Hard. The car went from almost 100 kilometers per hour to zero in the span of a few seconds. Shinji had trouble staying in his seat. The interior of the car started to stink of burned rubber.

"What was that?" Shinji shouted.

"Did you see that?" asked Ryouji, his face white as a sheet. Shinjis face wasn't looking much better, though with a noticable greenish tinge.

"Did we hit him?" Shinji craned his neck to look behind the car, but saw no body lying on the road. "I don't think we hit him."

"Her." said Ryouji, shaking his head. "Damn, we have no time for this." he put the car into gear again and accelerated away. It took a moment for his grin to return, and Shinji noted that his brow was still furrowed in thought.

The car almost flew over a hill top, and Shinji got his first look at the battlefield. The Hiryu had snuck up on the airfield at low altitude to avoid detection by the enemy, and the hills surrounding the base had prevented him from seeing anything of the battle at all. Now, he was astonished at the destruction it had wrought. He could see two ships burning in the bay, and with some horror he recognized them as two Kongo class battle cruisers. Or at least what had been two battle cruisers before whatever enemy had attacked them. Now they were nightmares of twisted and molten metal, laying in the shallow waters of Tokyo Bay. A path of utter destruction had been cut through the city, an area where no building had been left standing, not even piles of rubble to see where one had stood. Instead, it was a series of craters, both big and small, sometimes overlapping each other.

Noticing Shinjis open mouthed stare, his companion gave a short amused snort.

"Well, it could be worse. As I was leaving, your father was just talking the general of the Guard out of using the hydrogen cyanide shells."

Shinji could not believe his ears. How desperate had the situation been that the man charged with defending the capital had been willing to use poison gas on it?

"Did we...did we win?"

The smile on Ryoujis face vanished for good. He shook his head.

"Not yet."

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Bay_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

The rest of the journey passed uneventful, if one wanted to call several clear violations of the laws of motion physics uneventful. Shinji, for one, wanted to do so, if only for the reason that he wanted to forget about it as soon as possible. His stomach was still churning, and he did not want to give in to motion sickness now that he was back on solid ground. He was a naval ensign, after all. Naval ensigns did not get motion sickness. That was for the aptly named Army pukes.

They had left the car at the entrance of the hangar, right next to the two giant doors. Shinji had expected to find a Zeppelin here, but it appeared that the hangar was empty. Captain Ryouji, however, kept walking further into the hangar. His face now looked more worried than ever. Finally he stopped.

"We're here." Ryouji said, a little too loud for just Shinji to hear.

Shinji looked around but could only make out a vague shape in front of them in the half dark of the hangar. Then someone threw a switch and the lights at the ceiling came on, illuminating the area. And the giant sitting in front of them. Shinji had to take an involuntary step back from the monster. It was slumped now, kneeling as if in thought, but when standing up to its full height it would probably reach up to the ceiling, some 30 meters above Shinjis head. It was obviously fashioned after an ancient Samurai armor, with a fearsome mask under it's helmet. It's left shoulder had a wide shield attached to it, covering it almost to it's waist if it stood fully upright, and it was holding a strange, twisted, two pronged spear or lance in its right hand.

Shinji could only think of one question to ask.

"What is that thing?"

Before Ryouji could answer, a familiar voice spoke up from a part of the walkway above the machine that had remained outside the pillar of light shining down on it.

"This is a Type 70 mechanical fighting machine called an Evangelion, Unit 1."

His fathers voice.

"It is Japans greatest triumph, and now it's last hope of survival." his father said, as he began to walk along the walkway with perfectly measured steps, apparently not in any hurry.

"We face an enemy that conventional weapons can not defeat. The Evangelion can."

He reached his position right above the head of the Evangelion and turned to look down at Shinji.

"You will pilot it."

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Bay_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

Shinji wondered if the car ride had upset more than just his stomach. Obviously, he was hearing things. Like his father, after three years without a single word (broken by what had, in fact, been a single word), demanding he pilot a giant mechanical humanoid. Which could not possibly be true. The fact that Captain Ryouji next to him looked quite shocked probably meant that his hearing was, unfortunately, accurate.

"Sir, with due respect, I do not believe this is the time to introduce a new pilot..." Ryouji said.

"But I do believe so. You are wasting time. Introduce Ensign Ikari to the controls of the Evangelion and then meet me at the observation site." his father said and turned to leave.

"I...father...Sir, surely there are mor..." Shinji began before being cut of by a look from his father.

"I have made my decision, Ensign Ikari. And I believe I made it clear to you." he said and left.

Shinji and the Captain remained behind, both shocked into inactivity for a moment. Then Ryouji spoke up, the easy carelessness back in his voice.

"Heartwarming. He is right, though. We are running out of time. If we want to save this city we will have to hurry." he said and walked over to a ladder leading up to the walkway. Shinji followed.

Up on the walkway over the Evangelion, under the brim of the helmet, Shinji could see the bridge, (no, the cockpit, the small but usefull part of his brain corrected) for the first time. It seemed quite comfortable for a machine of war. It's seat was polstered, and there was a large dashboard holding a multitude of dials on the front side. The cockpit seemed to lack any sort of steering mechanism, though, but before Shinji could ask about that, Ryouji had pointed to a small hatch in front of the cockpit.

"Alright Shinji, get in the front cockpit."

Shinji stepped on the shoulder of the metal giant and went to the hatch. He peered inside.

"I know there is no seat there. Just put your legs through it and feel for the stirrups. Make sure you get your feet inside the harness first."

Stirrups?, Shinji thought. What was this, a horse? It did not look like a horse. Shinji sat on the edge of the hatch, forced his legs through it and felt around, but found nothing to stand on.

"They are lower. Just get in there. Keep your arms above the hatch and drop until you find them." Captain Ryouji explained, in a very calm voice that Shinji never would have expected from a SNLF officer. He had expected a great deal more shouting, and comparisons of his intelligence with that of progressively less developed animals. Still, the whole thing seemed just silly, especially when Ryouji calmly told him to remove his sword, which had kept him from forcing his way deeper into the machine. By then Shinjis face was deep red from both extortion and embarassment, and still the Captain refused to raise his voice. He did not even make the small quibs that Shinji had come to expect from him.

Getting his feet into the harness was not the problem, finding the stirrups was. Finally, as Shinji was hanging like a drowning swimmer in the hatch, with only his arms keeping him from falling into the belly of the beast, his feet brushed against something. He felt around and found a metal bar to stand on. It swung around a lot and did not really give any impression of giving him secure footing. After he found the other stirrup, and getting his other foot into it, he gave a nod to the captain crouching next to the hatch.

"Well done. Now move your right arm in and search for a grip." Shinji fumbled around inside the head of the metalic monster, until he finally found a cage with a metallic handle inside. He gripped it firmly. It was a surreal scene, with the two men alone in a giant hangar, working quietly on a giant mechanical war machine, even though the fate of the city, possibly the country (and really the entire world) hung in the balance. Yet there was no sign of hurry, as if they had all the time in the world.  
Finally, Shinji had both feet in the stirrups, both hands griping metal handles, only his head still visible outside the hatch. Captain Ryouji stood up and walked over to the rear cockpit. He dropped into the seat.

"Shinji, this will feel a little weird. Just relax." he said and turned a switch. Shinji screamed as the harness through which he had stuck his legs and arms suddenly thightened and wrapped around every part of his body, cut into the flesh of his legs and his upper and lower arms. It took him a moment to notice what the purpose was. The harness was connected to the Evangelion using wires, and Shinji guessed they were used to fixate the pilot. He now stood firmly inside the stirrups where before he had been shaking like a leaf. That did not mean it was comfortable. It wasn't. Even the slightest movement made it dig into his flesh. Fighting a battle in this would be hell. But his torture wasn't over just yet.

"Are you alright?" When Shinji gave a shaky affirmative, the disgustingly calm voice from the rear cockpit continued. "Good. Now Shinji, I want you to really relax your muscles. This is very important."

This order did nothing to help Shinji relax, and after some deep breaths he said he was as realxed as he would ever be.

"Relax. This will fell very weird." Before Shinji could really wonder how it could top the feeling of being tied to a giant warmachine, Ryouji had turned another switch, dropping the entire apparatus deeper into the machine. Shinji was now alone in complete darkness, hanging around like a puppet waiting for its next use. He would not have been able to see his hand before his eyes, if he had been able to move it. Then, the lines connecting the harness to the Evangelion went taunt, and in that moment Shinji knew why Ryouji had insisted on him relaxing his muscles. As if an invisible puppet master had taken hold of him, his right leg snapped back, his left leg bending up until Shinji was effectivly kneeling in midair inside the Evangelion's body. Then his arms were moved the same way until his right held an invisible spear shaft, his left was resting on his left knee. His body mirrored the stance of the Evangelion as it rested on the hangar floor.  
Shinji felt more than saw Ryouji leave. Metal ground on metal, and slawly light shone inside his cockpit again as the helmet swung back to cover the rear cockpit. The face mask he had observed earlier now acted as armor for the pilot, but had the disadvantage of limiting his frontal field of view.

"Well, that worked better than I expected. Now don't touch anything until I tell you to." said Ryoujis voice from his left. Turning his head in that direction Shinji noticed a view port set into the side of the helmet, besides which the Captain was crouching. "Good. Now, it is all very simple from here on in. You move the Evangelion like you move your body. In fact, you move it as you move your body. The Evangelion is powered by an electrical generator the creates the hydraulic pressure for the limbs. You get your energy by a cable trailing behind you. Make sure it does not get stuck. If you lose the cable, left middle finger switch activates the emergency petrol engine that powers the generator. You have to be careful, your fuel only lasts for about 5 minutes under battle conditions. If you lose your cable, retreat. I would advise against touching any other buttons or switches, at least for now. Head for the palace and engage the enemy. Any last questions?"

Shinjis head still swam from the torrent of information dumped on him. He figured he couldn't really ask if his father had gone insane, so he only shook his head.

"Any last words? Any girls I should tell that you told me to tell them you loved them if you die? No?"

Shinji did not appreciate his attempts to loosen up the situation. He was about to go into his first battle, in a machine he had not known anything about maybe 15 minutes earlier, against an enemy that had apparently not been hurt by anything man could throw at it, armed with nothing but his courage and a spear. And frankly, his courage was not exactly weapons-grade right now. When he remained silent, Ryouji moved away from the viewport and went back to the walkway. A short moment later, he reappeared on the hangar floor, well in front of Shinji.

"Good hunting then, Ensign Ikari. I will make sure the world will know what you did here today, even if you don't live to tell the tale." he almost shouted before he walked to a small panel at the side of the hangar and threw a big switch.

Immediately, the the dials set into the rear of the face mask started to turn, displaying information Shinji could not interpret at all. When most of them stopped turning, Shinji took a deep breath and attempted to stand up. Without feeling the ground below him, he could do little more than straighten his legs and hope for the best. The problem was that, while he was used to push up when standing up from a crouch, he was now pushing down. It was really not as simple as Captain Ryouji had promised. Concentrating hard on keeping his feet at the same level as best he could, he could feel and see the Evangelion rise, the hangar roof coming closer and closer until he realized that his legs were fully stretched. Droping a little, he suddenly felt the center of gravity shift. He instinctivly made a side step. The machine followed, and he managed to stabilize himself and the Evangelion.

Shinji was quite proud of himself for this achievement. Next would be forward walking. Rising his leg and taking a step in midair, he started on his way towards battle.

_Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet_  
_overlooking Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

Standing atop the small hill that served as the temporary combat headquarters (by virtue of being the place where Rear Admiral Ikair happened to be at the moment), Gendo watched the Evangelion and his son marching through the streets of Tokyo towards the palace. Granted, it did, on occasion, march through a house, but it was really trying to stay on the streets. And it wasn't like houses couldn't be rebuild, provided there was a city left after the Evangelion and it's enemy were done.

But after all, it was not the city they were protecting, so that was really a minor concern.

"So, I see he has decided to pilot after all." said the voice of Commodore Fuyutsuki behind him.

"He had his orders, and he followed them." Gendo replied.

"You and me both know that being ordered to do something and doing something are two entirely different things."

Gendo said nothing. Fuyutsuki had hit upon one of the dirtiest secrets of military command: That, fundamentally, soldiers could not be ordered or forced to fight. Certainly, one could punish a man who did not fight. But what did an officer do if every man refused? At some basic level, the soldiers had to want to go into battle, and making them wanting to do so was what Gendo considered half his job. The other half was to do everything in his power to make sure the enemy did not get a fair fight. That he was forced instead to fight an unwinnable battle. Some officers of his rank thought their job was to direct the battle, and therefore studied past battles and engaged in mock fights at the sand table. Gendo followed the philosophy that a well motivated force fighting from a superior position would win without his interference. Tactics wasn't his strength at all and something he prefered to leave to his unit commanders. It did require a great amount of trust in them, and had he not been able to hand pick his subordinates probably would not work at all.

"So why does he fight?" Fuyutsuki wondered aloud. A former professor of Osaka University, he had joined the military when his university fell victim to one of the new volcanos that erupted all over Japan in the wake of Second Impact. He certainly did not have a military mind and prefered to do the paperwork necessary to keep an army running. His complete lack of drive towards battle or promotion, Gendo mused while he watched his son tear down a house to free his electrical cable, was probably half the reason why he had been assigned to such an uneventful post. The First Home Defense Fleet defended Tokyo from naval invasions. That meant they fought when the entire navy had already failed to protect the home islands and the Yokohama coastal fortress had failed to stop the enemy from steaming up Tokyo Bay. As a result, it was a post generally given to people who were considered unfit for frontline assignments for a variety of reasons.

Fuyutsukis weakness for bureacracy also meant that Gendo had less to do, and that did made his constant attempts at discussing some minor aspect of war somewhat more bearable. Seeing how nothing of note was happening, and since he had no means of changing the course of battle or communicating with Shinji anyway - the Evangelion carried no communication gear due to weight issues - he decided to humor him.

"He wants to impress me, obviously. Furthermore, he has spent the last five years training to be a soldier, and now he has the chance to prove himself as a soldier among soldiers."

"So that is why you sent Ryouji to pick him up?" ,his second in command wondered.

"He is 14 years old. His world is a bit simpler than ours. I give him a hero to touch and he wants to become one as well."

"That may well mean his death." Fuyutsuki interjected.

"He would just be the first of many, if he fails to defeat the Angel."

Seeing Captain Ryouji approach, the two men fell silent. Ryouji, in tradition of the SNLF, did not salute his superior officers on the field of battle but gave a short nod and stood next to Gendo. After a short moment in which the Evangelion walked straight through the wall surrounding the palace compound, Ryouji leaned to Gendo and said "Sir, while I was escorting Ensign Ikari here, we almost ran over someone looking very much like Rei. Are you sure she is still in the hospital?"

Gendo kept his face passive. He was not sure she was still in hospital, and considering there were very few (indeed only one) persons with the her features, there was a good reason to assume that she wasn't. Which meant that one of his pilots was now wandering the streets of Tokyo in the middle of a battle.

"And why," said Gendo, his voice ice cold, "did you not tell me about that the moment you saw me?"

Ryouji smirked for a moment before he managed to supress it with some difficulty - or perhaps relunctance, one could never tell with him. "With due respect Sir, you did not give me much time to do so."

It were incidents like these that had made Ryouji a virtual outcast, even among the normally rather undisciplined SNLF soldiers. He simply did not understand that there were times when a man of his rank should apologize and shut up - or maybe he did understand, and was just unwilling to do so. Either way, he had been on his way to a dishonorable discharge when Gendo had managed to request him for transfer to the First Home Defense Fleet. No one doubted his competence in all matters tactical, but his superiors were more than happy to see him gone to an unimportant post far to the rear, and perhaps even more importantly, far away from them.

"Permission to head a search party, Sir?" he said now, perhaps in an attempt to escape Gendos wrath, which he probably expected to come down on him for his transgression.

Gendo shook his head.

"No need Captain. There will be time for that once the battle is over, and it will be over before you can find her anyway."

Suprise visible on his face, Ryouji fell silent next to him. It was perhaps very fortunate that he did not know the role he was playing in the big game, Gendo thought, or else he would be even more insufferable.

_Imperial Palace,_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

The enemy Gendo had called an Angel (and which did not look like an Angel at all) had broken through the last line of defense a good half hour ago, but once it had reached its goal, it seemed to have forgotten what it had come for in the first place. Having brushed aside any resistance with ease, it had spent the last half hour blowing up random buildings on the palace grounds, as if it enjoyed the destruction of human works. Or perhaps it was just curious what was inside them, because it would walk over to each new crater to peer inside (assuming that the holes in its avian skull-like mask were eyes), before blowing up something else.

Therefore the palace grounds that Shinji walked on had little resemblance to the lush gardens that the Emperor used to walk in. The flowers had been trampled, it's trees burned and the koi ponds boiled. What had been one of the most beautiful (if very exclusive) places in Japan only a few hours ago, was now fast on its way to resemble an uninhabitable desert.

Shinji had first seen the monster as he had stepped out from behind the main palace building, and while he had not quite expected something that blew up buildings by looking at them, the fact that he had not met anyone who shot at him while he was moving towards the palace had tipped him off that he was probably not dealing with a conventional attack. Bipedal seamonsters with death rays still weren't anywhere on the list of what he had thought he would fight, but an officer of the Imperial Navy, as Shinji considered himself to be, was nothing if not able to improvise.

Coming up behind the monster, Shinji wondered if he should (like tradition probably demanded in such a place) make a declaration to it, reciting his male ancestors until four generations back, claim that he stood here on behalf of the emperor and challenge it to face him. Then he realize that his opponent probably spoke neither Japanese nor any other human language and that shouting at it would only give away his position. Shinji remembered one of the very few things his father had ever taught him - if your enemy gives you an opening, never hesitate to use it. This meshed well with his Academy teachings, which always emphazised to make the first blow, and to make the first blow hurt as much as possible.

And besides, he did not know his male ancestors four generations back anyway, which would have made the whole thing a lot less dramatic if he had attempted it.

Despite the fact that every one of Shinji's steps shook the ground, and despite the fact that every movement of the Evangelion was accompied by metal groaning and hydraulics hissing, his enemy seemed not to notice him. It kept looking over the desolate landscape it had created, perhaps wondering what it was doing here, or wondering what it had missed on it's search. Either way, when he was maybe 50 meters away from his opponent, Shinji decided to push the attack. He would ram the enemy with the left shoulder, send him tumbling to the ground, where he would skewer him with his spear.

Three fast steps brought him into striking distance, a turn to the right brought the left shoulder forward while the spear remained in the right to be used once the enemy had fallen. The crash came earlier than he had expected, the metal in the shoulder shield protesting against the punishment as he hurled the Evangelion onto the enemy to knock him down. To Shinjis shock, he did not even touch the giant, despite sounds to the contrary. A shining shield that seemed to be made of light kept him at a distance, and his attack did not trouble his enemy at all. Indeed, it did not even turn around to meet his attack, but instead decided that a ruined building at the other end of the former garden needed to be turned into even finer rubble.

Shinji took a step back to gain distance and then tried to stab the two pronged spear in the Evangelions right hand through the shield. To his surprise, it was not deflected but managed to push a little way into it. Where all the modern guns in Tokyo had failed, a weapon that had been outdated for over a century had not.

That did not mean he had hurt his opponent, because the spear was now stuck in the shield, and the metal in the right arm of the Evangelion groaned as he tried to force it through the enemy's defenses. Shifting his war machine slightly, Shinji grasped the spear with the left hand as well and thus doubled the strength behind its thrust. The struggle between spear and shield continued for a moment, then Shinji had forced the weapon through and impaled it into the back of his enemy. And in that moment, the monster screamed.

It was a scream unlike anything anyone in the city had ever heard, a scream of such anguish, a scream of such horror, a scream so full of indignation that such an affront to it's very being was even possible. This was not the scream of a wounded animal, it was the scream of an intelligent, sentinent being that could only bear the pain it felt by screaming. The scream shook the ground the two enemies were standing on, it crumbled walls and made Shinjis skull vibrate, until he thought he could no longer take it. Then it stopped. The wounded beast slumped forward, and for a moment Shinji thought that he had killed it.

But the monster was far from dead, though Shinji had wounded it with the only weapon in human hands that could hurt it. It twisted itself away from the offending weapon, ripping it out of its body in the process. Shinji took a step back again to wait for the enemy to complete his turn, and to make an attack against his front, perhaps his head or face (Shinji did not know if it had any of these features, since he had only seen it from behind). However, as the monster turned around he could see the area of its flesh where the spear had stuck twisting and bubbling, before smoothing over and leaving behind smooth green skin again. If it had not been for the black blood that clung to his spear and now dripped to the ground, Shinji would have had to assume that his attack had had the same impact as all the others made on the enemy, that is to say none at all.

For a moment, the dark green giant made of flesh and bones and the dark purple giant made of metal and human ingenuity regarded each other. Then the eyes of Shinjis opponent flashed, and had Shinji not managed to turn the the right and thus bring the wide sheat of armor mounted on the upper left arm of his machine forward in time, the beam that struck the Evangelion would have ripped its head (and Shinji inside it) clean off. As it was, a wave of heat washed through the cockpit, and when the attack ceased Shinji could see that the armor had melted and was now running down the arm to pool on the ground, together with something darker that Shinji hoped was hydraulic fluid (instead of, say, his own blood).

Rather than firing a second beam, which probably would have finished off the armor for good and left Shinji with precious few options except running for his life, his enemy decided to try something else. It's right arm lashed out and grabbed the Evangelion's helmet. Shinji could see the center of its palm glowing, and given the destruction all around them, thought that this was probably a bad sign. Rising his (and thus the Evangelion's) left hand, he hammered away at the arm. Just in time he managed to break it's hold and force it down towards the Evangelions chest. A beam of light shot out from the green monster's hand, punching straight through the thin armor covering the chest of the Evangelion. And now it was Shinji who screamed, as shrapnell flew around inside the cockpit, ripping through his uniform and digging into his legs.

_Temporary Combat Headquarters, First Home Defense Fleet_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

To a casual oberservor, Gendo Ikari would have seemed completely unconcerned by the way the battle was progressing. Despite the fact that he had wagered victory, the survival of the Empire and the continued existence of the human species (the last fact was only known to a few other men in Japan) on the Evamgelion and his son, he appeared not too concerned with the fact that mankinds last hope had just been punched through the chest by a beam of light. Instead, he focused on another small, but incredibly more important detail.

A moment later, Ryouji identified it as well.

"How could he touch it? When he charged the monster the first time the shield blocked him, and now it is gone."

Gendo smirked.

"It appears that in order to touch something, our enemy has to give up his protection."

Ryouji smirked as well. "Only he who is willing to be killed can kill." The he frowned. "But why did it do that? Why did it not continue to use his ranged attack?"

To that, Gendo had several theories but no real answer. Maybe it lacked an idea of gradual damage and only understood a clean killing shot. Having seen it's attack fail, it decided to use another attack because the first had been useless, in the hopes that the second attack would kill its opponent. No, he thought, it had continued to fire on Haruna even after it had given her a glancing hit. Maybe it really enjoyed hitting things with its fist. Maybe it simply did not employ rational tactics and did whatever seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was just a particularly stupid example of its kind.

"It does not matter. Our enemy has made an opening, and that opening will be it's undoing."

He really wished he still had some asset to send against the Angel, but he was out of contact with the remains of the Imperial Guards Division, and the remains of the First Scouting Squadron would need at least an hour to make a turn around, even if he could order them to do so right now, which he couldn't. In hindsight, keeping a reserve for such a situation might have been a good idea, but then again, it had taken every asset he had to delay the enemy from reaching the palace grounds long enough for the Evangelion to deploy. He could not have known that the Angel would just stand around blowing up random objects.

Never a man to dwell on missed opportunities (especially when he could not possibly have forseen them), he returned his attention to the battle, where the enemy had taken hold of the Evangelion's head again and Shinji was trying to break it.

_Imperial Palace,_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, early afternoon_

Shinji knew he was in a bad tactical situation. He might be a relative newcomer to the subtle art of fighting inside metal giants, but he was not stupid. He had not managed to hurt his opponent (not permanently, anyway), yet in return he had been wounded by it's attack. It was not primarily the damage the Evangelion had suffered - Shinji had noticed no odd behaviour from the control harness - but the fact that he could feel the blood running down his legs, pooling in his shoes and dripping down into the Evangelion. That he could feel it, at least, meant that his legs were still relatively intact. Still, it had been a far too close call for his comfort.

The spear, Shinji thought, might be his greatest asset, but right now it was his greatest liability. He could not drop it, since he had very little confidence in the monster allowing him to pick it back up (and even less confidence in him being able to do so without falling over), and so he had only the Evangelion's left hand to defend against any attacks. That was something his enemy also seemed to have realized (thus disproving a good half of Gendo's ideas about why it acted like it did), because it had grabbed the arm that had kept it from delivering a killing blow and used its other hand to make a grab for the Evangelion's head.

He expected the hit that would end it all any second now. The left arm was straining against the monster's hold, but in the match between the best materials human ingenuiety could make, and bestial strength, the human's side was losing rapidly. His opponent gave the Evangelion's left arm a powerfull pull, and to Shinjis horror a mighty groan came from the machines left shoulder. Weakened by the blast at the begining of the fight, and then further damaged by the constant strain Shinji had been forced to inflict on it during the fight, the gears and hydraulics in the shoulder gave and suddenly, the monster was holding several tons of aluminium, steel, hydraulic cylinders and electric cables. The wires connecting Shinjis left arm to the body of the Evangelion went taunt, cutting deep into his flesh. Within a few moments, Shinji could no longer feel his arm, though a quick look revealed it was still there (something Shinji was very thankful for, since he had grown rather attached to it), even if it did start to show an unhealthy color.

Apparently confused that it had dismembered its enemy, but not sent it fleeing, the enemy did not fire the beam from its palm straight away, which allowed Shinji to make a desperate attack with his spear in the right hand again. Thrusting blindly, he nevertheless managed to pierce through the enemy's right shoulder. Once more the monster wailed, but this time it sounded less hurt and more angry, and as its palm started to glow, Shinji tried desperately to duck, but he was still stuck in the harness and could barely move unless he wanted to move the Evangelion. But due to the hold the enemy had on it, he could not move his war machine and had to stay where he was.

The beam shot over the face armor, which only guarded the lower half of the head and Shinjis body from the chest down, and with a desperate lunge to one side, he managed to get his head and upper body out of the way. The beam passed over his shoulder, perhaps 3 inches from his cheek. Then it exited from the back of the Evangelions head and would have made a mess of anyone occupying the rear cockpit. Still, it turned most of the rear seat into more shrapnell flying around in the Evangelions head, and with all the small metalic fragments riccochetting off the inside, Shinji was certain that he was done for. He could feel it hit him in the back, a fiery pain soon followed by the sensation of warm blood running down his back.

Seeing the palm shift slightly and starting to glow again, Shinji knew that it was over. The enemy had grabbed the head with his left hand as well (after throwing away the arm ripped off the Evangelion), holding it in place while it tried to deliver what would be the killing blow. And there was nothing he could do. He had lost his left arm, the Evangelion was fixed in place and he still had that damned...spear...in...

Shinji almost howled in anger over his own stupidity. But he grasped his chance first. He raised his right arm, which still held the spear, and like a wrench used to loosen a screw, the spear, it's head still stuck in the enemy's shoulder, rotated. It forced the arm to turn as well, until the monsters shoulder joint gave way. Shinji overextended it further, before ripping the spear clear of the ruined limb. Rather than firing a beam from it's left hand, the monster staggered back to look at it's twisted right arm, even it's astounishing healing powers not enough to heal the damage in time. Not that Shinji gave it time to heal.

Now Shinji that had licked blood, he experienced what Captain Ryouji would have called battle fever. The panic he felt only a moment ago was gone, replaced by white hot anger at the enemy. Shinji wanted revenge, and so he pressed home the attack with every ounce of strength he had. A step forward brought him closer to his opponent, but it had rallied and made a swipe for the spear, ripping it out of the Evangelion's hand and throwing it through the air. Somehow, the spear twisted in mid air, pointed straight down and buried itself into the ground, right down to the junction of it's two prongs, as soon as it had left the Evangelion's hand.

The immediate effect of this was that the battle was even again, both combatants down to one arm, with the monster worse for wear in that regard. But Shinji was heavily injured and his machine damaged. However, the initiative had gone to Shinji, and it was him who now dictated the fight. With a highly unprofessional roar he threw a punch at his opponents face (or what he assumed was its face. Not that he cared too much as long as he got to hit it where it hurt), making the green monstrosity stumble back again.  
Shinji grabbed the hilt of the spear, gave it a mighty pull which sent the hydraulics in the Evangelion's remaining arm screaming again, and ripped it out of the ground.

What followed now gave little credit to the fight the two giants had fought on the palace grounds, and a late observer would probably wonder why the Evangelion looked so beat up, since it seemed to have fought a very weak foe. After retrieving the spear from its resting place, Shinji charged the enemy once more, his steps somewhat unsteady due to the injuries to his legs, making the Evangelion swing from side to side. His opponent fired a last desperate blast from his eyes, missing by meters (and burning a hilltop several kilometers away), then Shinji rammed his war machine against the green monster. No shield protected it this time, and the blow sent it crashing to the ground. Shinji put one of the Evangelion's feet on the monsters upper body to keep it down, then fixated on the rad orb set into the center of its chest.

Raising the spear high, and with all the force he and the Evangelion could muster, he drove the spear into the orb, split it in two and did not stop until he had embedded the spear fully into it's chest. The defeated foe raised his still functioning left arm towards the afternoon sun, still standing high above the field of battle (Shinji wisely made sure the arm was not pointing at the Evangelion), perhaps in a final attempt to kill its opponent, or perhaps as the last defying gesture of a dying man. Then the orb that held the spear shattered, and the arm fell back towards the earth. The monster that was called an Angel was finally dead, and humanity had killed it.

The battle was over, and as Shinji tried to turn the Evangelion towards its base to return, his body finally gave out.

_Temporary Combat Headquarter, First Home Defense Fleet,_  
_overlooking Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, afternoon_

Those that knew Gendo Ikari knew when he was truly shocked. The Rear Admiral was very good in hiding his surprise, and had cultivated a reputation that not only could nothing faze him, but that any event was completely expected, and indeed in accordance with his plans. A well known joke (which, for obvious reasons, was always told in hushed tones and only after the joker had made sure the rear admiral was nowhere near) went that Gendo Ikari could come across a set of identical octuplets juggling burning penguins on a Zepplin, and would still be able to convince everyone that this was exactly what he had expected and planned for. Therefore, when the Angel's beam attack ripped through the Evangelion's head, and the remains of the rear cockpit had been strewn across what used to be the palace gardens, people were very surprised that Rear Admiral Gendo Ikari, commanding officer of the First Home Defense Fleet, a man with at least half a dozend combat deployments, actually uttered the word "no".

That little word lost Gendo several months worth of building his reputation, but he did not care. For a brief moment - before the Evangelion started its counter attack - he believed that they had lost, and perhaps even worse, that his son had died. He was sparred the deliberation over which was in fact the worse result by the Evangelion's counter strike. The officers on the hill breathed a little easier when the Angel went to the ground, and a small cheer went up when the Evangelion rammed the lance through it's core.

People where then shocked again, when they saw Gendo Ikari (commanding officer, First Home Defense Fleet, etc. etc.) take off down the hill the moment the battle was over. Commodore Fuyutsuki and Captain Ryouji exchanged a glance, then the later went after the admiral, and the former went to organize a rescue and salvage team. And to inform the admirals wife, of course. Judging by the state of the Evangelion, she would have her hands full. 

**A/N:** So ends the first chapter of NGE: A Century Apart. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hospital Wing_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, evening_

When Shinji came to his senses, he was slightly confused. The last thing he remembered was turning the Evangelion around, and then...nothing. But apparently he had survived, or the Afterworld felt suspiciously like a bed. Which may well be possible. But then he felt a sharp pain as someone dug around in his leg with a pincer and ripped something out of his flesh. The sound of a small object made out of metal being dropped into a steel dish told him what it was. Shrapnel. He had been wounded during the fight in the Evangelion. Wounded, but not killed.

The pincer went back into his leg to fish out another piece of metal. When it slipped, the person operating on him gave a small sound of annoyance. Perhaps unaware that Shinji had regained consciousness, or perhaps just not caring about it, he shoved the pincer back in while holding the leg securely in his other hand, grabbed onto the piece of shrapnel and extracted it, by what had to be the most painful way he could have taken.

It appeared to have been the last one, because no further assaults were made on his legs or back. Instead, the strong smell of alcohol reached his nose, and a moment later he gave a hiss of suppressed pain when a small sponge was pressed on one of his wounds to disinfect it.

"I dig out half the Evangelion and you don't give a sound, but the moment I start with the disinfection you start screaming...some soldier you are!" said his tormentor in a good natured voice, and Shinji was forced to acknowledge that he had been mistaken. He had assumed he was operated on by a man - note entirely unreasonable, he tried to console himself - but the voice was definitely female. And even worse, he knew that voice.

"I wasn't screaming." he said to the wall in front of his face, forced by the wounds on his back to remain on his stomach.

"That's what your father said, when I had to bandage him up after that accident a few days ago."

Shinji did not know what she was referring to, but did not really care at that moment anyway. Mainly because the doctor was very thorough with disinfection (something Shinji was not all together unhappy with, not wanting to die of gangrene), and the sting made it difficult to focus. And besides, he was not to keen on striking up a conversation, particularly with this doctor.

Once all his many small injuries had been cleaned, she called for a nurse to bandage them and rose from the chair she had been sitting on.

"Well done, Shinji. I am sure your father is just as proud of you as I am." she said.

Shinji simply grunted in response, something he would have considered terribly rude under other circumstances (and in different company) and watched Dr. Ritsuko Ikari leave the hospital wing.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 15, 1915, late evening_

"...and therefore, unlike the Evangelion, the pilot will be ready for light duty within two weeks and should be back to full health next month. The Evangelion has suffered heavy damage during the battle. Its left arm was completely ripped out of the should joint, the front armor and the frame of the upper body were pierced and suffered heavy damage. The control system is shot and I have some doubts about the right arm, its frame seems to have buckled under the stress. If we have to replace it, the Evangelion will be out of service for at least a month."

Gendo remained as passive as ever, while his leading technical officer rattled down the damage the Evangelion had suffered. Shinji had really done a number on it, no doubt, but things broke in war. Many admirals never grasped this, and would therefore be completely shocked when one of the precious ships under their command was damaged, or worse, sunk. Gendo never had any illusions about what happened when one sent an untrained pilot against an unknown but formidable enemy. It had been a success that he had killed the Angel. That he had brought back the Evangelion in a recognizable shape was an added bonus.

"And the Lance?" he asked.

His wife did not have to look at her reports to answer that question.

"The Lance is perfectly fine. Not even a scratch on it."

As could be expected, Gendo thought. Trusting the weapon known as the Lance of Longinus to be able to kill the Angel had been a gamble of truly epic proportions. But then again, it wasn't like they had anything else in their inventory that could hurt an Angel. And now that it had worked, people would assume that he had known and consider him even more of a strategic genius. Not that Gendo minded that very much, in fact he tried to encourage the idea whenever he could. It was just that people assumed that he knew everything (especially things he had no business knowing about), and would therefore always expect him to be familiar with every minuscule detail of an issue. It did take considerable effort to keep up the reputation of omniscience when he was very limited in what he knew.

On the other hand, since people assumed he knew everything already, they usually ignored such minor things like security clearances, meaning the Gendo knew a great deal about things he really shouldn't know about. Which always came in handy. And thankfully, Ritsuko and Fuyutsuki, one a doctor and the other a philosopher by trade, always assumed they were talking to an absolute layman (if not to say idiot) when they were speaking to him. It was somewhat grating, because they would explain everything, including things they had already explained several times, but it was better than having to try and make sense of people talking about stuff he had never heard about.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings. He shot a glance at his wife, who dutifully stepped out of the way, leaving him to deal with Captain Ryouji (who had, true to form, not waited for Gendo to call him in). Gendo motioned him to step up to his desk.

"Sir, we have found Rei. Apparently, she was in the hospital the whole time." he said quietly, but loud enough for Ritsuko to hear.

"Then, Captain, I think you saw something entirely different from what you think you saw."

Ryouji looked like he would protest, but then reconsidered, nodded and left. A common occurrence with people (a term which usually did not include SNLF officers) who thought about questioning his orders, and even more common with people who wondered if they should investigate Rei a bit closer. Where Rei was concerned, ignorance was bliss. Not for Gendo, obviously. Therefore, Rei's possible escape was something he had to investigate thoroughly. He couldn't allow one of his pilots to wander the streets of Tokyo during a battle, especially not when she was as heavily injured as Rei was at the moment. Especially when she was Rei, period.

The girl had a few most disturbing habits, first among them the ability to escape whatever guards he assigned to her. If Rei wanted to leave a military base on full alert, then Rei most definitely had the ability to do so, as she had shown in the past. One never knew what rei was thinking, and one could never be sure that Rei was where one thought she was.

"Will you come home tonight?" Ritsuko asked from the door. Gendo considered this for a short moment before he answered.

"I still have a lot to do. It will take a while. Don't wait for me."

His wife nodded and left.

After he had waited a moment to make sure she had actually left, he opened one of the drawers in his desk and removed a metal bowl and a piece of paper. He placed the paper in the bowl, took a match from that same drawer and lit the paper on fire. Then he watched impassively over steepled hands, as the fire ate through the words 'The Third Approaches.'.

The little letter, sent by courier not 3 days ago, represented a great dilemma for him. Sun Tzu might have said that all warfare was based on deception (Sun Tzu had said a great many things), but Gendo knew better. All warfare was based on an objective, deception was just a means to hide one's own. Because once one knew the objective of one's opponent, his strategy usually became painfully obvious. If one had knowledge of the enemy's resources, it was almost too easy to predict, provided that one had studied the enemy's strategic and operational doctrine. The really great generals, Gendo knew, were very much aware of this and could easily predict an opponents moves, while finding a new solution to an old problem and thus surprise the enemy. And this was Gendo's main problem. He did not know his own objective. Neither did he know his enemy's objective. In fact, he was not even sure who his enemy was, and consequently did not know who his allies were. In the current situation, his enemies may well be his allies and vice versa.

All this represented by a small piece of paper, which was now only smoke and ash.

It wasn't that Gendo did not know who had sent this letter. He did. Gendo Ikari was perhaps the only man in Tokyo (after the Imperial Government had beat a hasty retreat when the Angel had shown up) who knew what they were dealing with. It wasn't the Angels he was worried about, it was the humans who had woken them. These people obviously had done so for a rational reason, that reason pointing towards their objective, and it was the objective that all warfare was based on. So why had they woken up something as destructive as the Angels? And what was his role in all of this? He had a role to play in the big game, no doubt. It was certainly not a coincidence that he had been at this particular post, just like it had not been a coincidence that he had been made aware of Captain Ryouji's talent for thinking outside the box. Not that it was his creativity (or, for that matter, his courage) that they were after. It was all part of some plan, and Gendo had the disturbing feeling that he did not fully understood his role in it yet.

Lesser men would have accepted that and would have gone about their business, and it wasn't like Gendo wouldn't have his hands full in the coming months. But then again, lesser men commanded Divisions of the Imperial Guard in the attempt to stop an enemy they could not hurt.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hospital Wing_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 16, 1915, just after midnight_

It was not the pain that woke Shinji this time. He was still on his stomach, as the nurse had ordered him to. Considering the blinding pain he had felt when he had tried to turn on his side without thinking, Shinji had no inclination to disobey. But it wasn't his favored sleeping position, and that meant his was a fitful sleep that night. Nightmares of giant monsters shooting beams of light at him did not help with that either.

Then he realized that what had woken him was another weight on the bed with him. Worse, it had him pinned to the bed by the bed sheet. The bed creaked quietly as the weight shifted. Next to his ear, something took a deep breath, as if to sample his scent. Like a predator that pondered if it should strike. Then came a single word, whispered right into his ear.

"Murderer."

The bed creaked again as the person left, and Shinji could hear footsteps leave the room. In the dark, he could not make out any details, just a slightly darker shadow in the night. It looked like someone about his size and hair slightly longer than military precision demanded.

Needless to say, he found it rather difficult to go back to sleep.

_Imperial Navy Headquarters,_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 17, 1915, morning_

The moment the enemy had made landfall and had annihilated the first coastal battery that opened fire on him, Gendo had known that there would be an inquiry, and that it would involve him first and foremost. He wasn't the highest ranking admiral in the First Home Defense Fleet, just the highest ranking one at the time of the attack. Technically, Admiral Kataoka was in command of the First Home Defense Fleet, but it was a very open secret that Gendo was the one actually running things. Kataoka had been given the post for several reasons, the most important one being that he was close to retirement and had requested a nice and quiet post for his last few months of service. A post which, incidentally, put him close to the court and the cabinet, since there was talk that he would join the government as minister for war after he retired from active service. Finally, there were good reasons why Gendo (especially Gendo) was not considered for that post just yet.

But all this mattered very little in daily life. Gendo commanded the Fleet, Admiral Kataoka mingled with high ranking government officials, and signed whatever Gendo needed signed. As long as nothing went wrong, everything was perfectly fine. It was just that some people in the Admiralty thought a giant green sea-monster rampaging through Tokyo and destroying the palace (including the Emperor's favorite Kois; His Majesty was deeply saddened by their untimely and rather violent death) was a problem. But Gendo had expected this and had had ample time to prepare his defenses. So it did not faze him in the slightest when a rather angry Admiral Kataoka had told him that the two of them had been summoned by a board of inquiry regarding the attack on Tokyo.

It was Gendo the board wanted to speak, Kataoka was just an innocent bystander. He was just 6 months away from his retirement, and should the board find them at fault, they would probably just admonish him for not keeping a closer eye on his subordinates. Since Kataoka had been away on a legitimate inspection during the attack, he could hardly be blamed for the destruction and would likely keep his post. But his hopes of becoming a minister in the imperial government would be dashed. Which was probably the reason why he had spent the last half hour detailing the ways he would end Gendo's career if he was punished. Gendo privately wondered if the Admiral honestly believed that. Gendo had been made (de facto, if not de jure) commanding officer of the First Home Defense Fleet for a reason, and more importantly by people quite a bit above Kataoka's level. As long as he pleased those people, his position was as solid as a rock.

Which meant that this whole business of inquiry was one huge waste of time. But Gendo wasn't too sorry to have gotten out of the base. The wind had turned, and the smell of the Angel rotting in the summer sun was almost unbearable inside the base. Work details were cutting apart the carcass as fast as they could (though there had been several desperate pleas of museums all over the world to allow them to preserve it for science), but work was slow going because of the damaged infrastructure. They simply couldn't transport the Angel's flesh away fast enough, never mind that no one had any idea what to do with it. The current plan was to just dump it back into the ocean and let nature sort it out.

Therefore, Gendo found the little trip to Navy Headquarters, which was situated downwind from the Palace Grounds, a very welcome relief, even if the reason for it should have made him anything but relieved.

His face as impassive as ever, he stood by his chair while he waited for the head of the board calling the meeting - or interrogation - to order.

"Be seated."

Gendo took his seat and suppressed the urge to steeple his hands in front of his face, like he usually did. It was bad form to do so in public. Yui had taught him this. Folding his hands on the table in front of him like a good boy, he waited for the rest of the people in the room to take their seats and the shuffling of chairs to end. A moment later, the chairman spoke up again.

"Admirals Ikari and Kataoka, this is an inquiry into your actions during the attack two days ago. Presiding is Admiral Nakano," he added, quite unnecessarily in Gendo's opinion, because the admirals of the Imperial Navy obviously knew each other. But apparently procedure still had to be followed. He half-listened as Nakano introduced the other members of the board, then suddenly perked up when he heard something most unusual.

"...and representing the Imperial Army is Guards Major Sugiyama. Given that this was a joint operation, it was decided that the Army had a right to participate and...ask...a few...questions."

The way he pressed out the last few words told Gendo that Nakano was not at all happy with the decision. That was understandable, because it was very unusual. It was one of the unwritten laws of the Japanese military that the armed services controlled themselves with no outside interference. The rivalry between the Imperial Navy and the Army was legendary. To allow the Army to listen in on what could be a lot of dirty Navy laundry being aired was unprecedented, and a major defeat in the internal turf war going on between the services. Gendo assumed that the decision to break with tradition had been made on a very high level, quite possibly in the office of the Emperor. Though His Majesty rarely interfered directly with politics, it was not unheard of, if He decided that it needed a personal touch. Probably those damn Kois, Gendo thought, He had really liked those. And now he was blaming the Navy for the whole thing.

Behind Sugiyama sat a young brown-haired girl in an Army Intelligence Service uniform. Perhaps she was Sugiyama's assistant, perhaps his plaything. Perhaps both. But considering that she was holding a clipboard with a thick stack of papers, and was talking rapidly to Sugiyama, who was looking none too pleased with that, it was perhaps not the Major who the Army really wanted to have in this room and in this particular sitting. Gendo started to get the feeling that this inquiry might not go just as smooth as he had expected it would, if only for the reason that it was no longer about the things he had thought it would be.

Nakano coughed once and glared in Sugiyama's direction, causing him to stop talking to his mistress (in whatever meaning of the word) and turn around to face Gendo and Kataoka, who had looked ready to burst at the revelation that an Army officer was going to sit in on HIS hearing, and was by now probably convinced that it was a plot by the Army to keep him out of the minister's office.

"After reading the preliminary report, I understand that Admiral Kataoka was away during the time of the attack. Is that correct?" he asked, looking at Kataoka, who nodded.

"Yes, I was inspecting the new Zeppelin base at Tateyama. I returned as soon as I got word of the attack, but the enemy was dead by the time I returned."

Sugiyama and the girl were both furiously taking notes, but said nothing.

"That leaves Admiral Ikari in command of the First Home Defense Fleet. Did you take command during the attack, Admiral?" It was clear that Kataoka was pretty much of the hook with this question. Just as Gendo had predicted. If Sugiyama had wanted to shoot down his superior, they would have tried to indicate that he should have known or should have taken measures to expedite his return, which would have forced Kataoka to explain why that wasn't possible, leaving him finally in a position where doubts of his competence weren't quite resolved. But they had not asked those questions. Perhaps they wanted to shoot him down, Gendo figured, and hope the Kataoka burned alongside with him.

Gendo nodded in answer.

"Please give the board your version of the events. Everyone present" - a significant glance at Sugiyama - "has read your preliminary report and is cleared for the same security level you are." Sugiyama's shadow handed him another stack of papers, no doubt the very report he should have read already. And no doubt the report she had read.

Gendo cleared his throat.

"At about 0830 hours on the 15th of June, we received word from the destroyers Sakaki and Umikaze, reporting an unknown object underwater that was moving towards the Yokohama naval base. As per standard protocol, both it and the Tokyo base were put on invasion warning alert. The Zeppelin Unryu was in the area and confirmed a shadow underwater. It bypassed the Yokohama naval base and continued to head towards Tokyo. The commander of the First Scouting Squadron, Admiral Yamamoto, ordered it to make steam and be ready to move in pursuit on his own authority. The Unryu continued to track the object until it surfaced in Tokyo bay at around 0945 hours. By 1000 hours the enemy had made landfall and actively engaged the shore batteries. At about 1030, all shore batteries were combat ineffective. By then the Imperial Guard had moved into a blocking position and managed to hold off the enemy until about 1330 to 1340 hours, despite taking heavy casualties." Gendo nodded towards Sugiyama, who nodded back but kept up his rapid pace of note taking.

"First Scouting Squadron began shelling the enemy around 1400 hours, but was forced to withdraw about 20 minutes later, after the Kongo had been sunk and the Haruna crippled. The attack by the First Naval Aviation Squadron was ineffective. First Home Defense Fleet sortied its single Type 70 Evangelion at about 1430 hours. It engaged the enemy around 1500 hours, and defeated it within 15 minutes."

Sugiyama coughed, then raised his hand, before any of the other assembled Navy officers could respond. With a look that tried very hard not to be disgusted, Nakano gestured for the Major of the Guards to go ahead.

"So, did I understand you correctly, the Evangelion was not used until almost 5 hours after the attack started, and about 6 hours after the enemy had been spotted for the first time?"

"That is what I said."

"Why, if I may ask?"

Gendo almost replied that he may not, because this was something that should really only concern him as the commander on the spot. Not some random Army Major. But the look on Admiral Nakano told him that such behavior would not be tolerated. Officially, at least, his actions were under strict scrutiny, and that meant that the Navy members of the board had every bit as much interest in the answer to that question as Sugiyama did, though it should have been one of them who asked the question.

"Because we lacked a pilot."

"Now, Admiral, I am sure there were quite a few suitable soldiers on hand." The girl sitting behind him handed him another file.

"Captain Ryouji, for example."

The Army Intelligence Service had done it's homework, there was no doubt about that. But then again, so had Gendo.

"Ryouji was unsuitable due to weight reasons."

"His file says that he has passed every mandatory fitness test. With distinction."

Naturally, Gendo thought, but that would be because the good Captain, like every SNLF officer, was a little bit crazy when it came to fitness. The joke went that every SNLF officer was told that they had to be able to swim to shore in full gear from the ship, just in case there were no landing craft to be found, and every SNLF officer was always training to be able to do so. Gendo could only assume that it was a prank someone pulled on a new recruit which then perpetuated onwards until it became tradition. That people actually believed that said a lot about the SNLF. And about people, as well.

"You misunderstood, an adult is too heavy to pilot an Evangelion. As you should know if you had read the briefing on the Type 70."

He noticed with some degree of satisfaction that Sugiyama's assistant/girlfriend/controller blushed bright red and handed him yet another file, which the Major took with a look of clear frustration. Obviously, this whole setup had been a last minute affair, and Gendo could not help but feel a bit sorry for the Major, who was just a pawn in the ongoing battle between Army and Navy. A willing pawn, no doubt, but still a pawn.

"I will spare you the work. Evangelions are bipedal, which means that their entire weight rests on their two feet. Their ground pressure is high, since the area of their feet is relatively small, compared to their weight. In order to keep the Evangelion from sinking into the ground, any and all weight saving measures had to be taken. The frame of its upper body is made out of aluminium, only the frame of the legs is full steel. It is lightly armored, except for the left shoulder. It carries no radio or other communication equipment, despite having the space for it. We actually contemplated to remove the aluminium from the back of the Mechanoid and to replace it with simple canvas, to have more weight available for armament and frontal armor. In fact, Tokyo is one of the few places in Japan where the Evangelion can walk without snowshoes to reduce the ground pressure. To put it simple, we can not afford to have a full grown adult pilot an Evangelion. Teenagers are much better. Girls in particular, because most of them are even lighter than boys of the same size. The Evangelion's control system also negates any differences in body strength between male and female pilots, making them even better suited to the task. As far as I know, the Germans have a female pilot for their first combat ready Evangelion, and I hear the Americans have one in their pilot corps as well."

The girl sitting behind Sugiyama was by now taking notes at a pace that seemed to defy physics. Gendo knew that this information seemed to be the holy grail for anyone trying to learn about Evangelions - after all the Imperial Army had none of their own, and they had probably sent her here to learn whatever she could on them. They had, after all, to prepare to engage them in battle, either against a foreign foe, or - given the situation between the two services - a domestic one. The speed with which Sugiyama had pounced on it seemed to indicate that as well. Unfortunately for her, it was also pretty much completely wrong. Certainly, there were problems with the ground pressure, but much smaller than he had let on. In fact, Ryouji could probably have piloted Unit 1 just fine (50 kg more or less did not make that much of a difference on good streets, like Tokyo had), but Gendo had very strict orders (or, since they came from people outside his chain of command, perhaps suggestions would be the better word) to keep him out of danger. Which, given that the man was an SNLF officer, was a lesson in frustration.

Sugiyama, for his part, was not to impressed with the information. Then again, the Guards were perhaps the most conservative faction in the entire army. He probably thought Evangelions a waste of perfectly good metal to forge swords with. But that did not mean that he was done asking questions.

"Next question, if I may...Admiral, according to the report I read the pilot - new pilot, I would assume - is named Ikari as well. Are you related to him?"

Gendo knew where this was going. Still, it would not do to lie here.

"He is my son." Set up.

"And you see nothing wrong with handing that machine to a close relative? I have to admit that I am very surprised at the way the Navy assigns people to their posts!"

Gendo felt the corners of his mouth twitch a little.

"Major, last I heard your son was a Lieutenant in the Guards as well." Riposte.

He could see Sugiyama's face get red, either from embarrassment or anger, perhaps from both.

"In fact, I believe he is in your battalion." Knock Out.

Being assigned to the capital had its advantages. Being around Kataoka had its advantages as well. And finally, being able to remember trivial details dropped in a conversation weeks ago turned those two things into a weapon. And for some unexplained reason, Gendo's revelation that the kettle that called him black wasn't exactly white himself meant that no further questions about why he had made his own son pilot of the only Evangelion in Japan were asked. But by now, the entire board was glaring at the Major, and no one would even consider asking anything that would make him look even remotely correct. This was now an issue of honor, and that meant that such trivial details were ignored.

Perhaps he should have gone with the idea that it took a certain type of skill to operate an Evangelion effectively, and then to claim that his son was one of the few people in Japan - indeed, the world - possessing this vital skill. But considering that similar machines were already mass produced - not the Type 70, which was unique - that would probably not hold up too well. Then again, by the time those mass production models became commonplace, no one would remember this episode.

But Sugiyama was not done yet, though Kataoka looked like he was about to do things that would be entirely improper for an officer of the Imperial Navy. Not that he looked like he cared very much about that at the moment. The Army Major changed topics again, obviously in an attempt to catch Gendo off guard and reveal his grave errors in judgment (which, by now, would have to be very grave indeed to make the board care about them), or at least get a few more pieces of information for the spy sitting behind him.

"Admiral, considering that the Evangelion wasn't combat ready at the time, and considering that you could not be sure a pilot would show up in time, why did you oppose the use of the special ammunition against the target, given the situation?"

'Special Ammunition' referred, of course, to the poison gas canisters that the General of the Guard had wanted to use against the Angel.

"Chemical weapons are area denial weapons. Deploying gas against the enemy, if it would have even worked would make any deployment of the Evangelion impossible. If the Evangelion failed to stop the enemy, on the other hand, there was still time to deploy it. The correct escalation sequence should be obvious."

When Sugiyama opened his mouth to reply, Kataoka had had enough and cut him off.

"That will be enough from the Army. You asked your questions. Now, Admiral Ikari, about the attack made by the First Scouting Squadron..."

The rest of the hearing passed without notable events, and Gendo was not surprised when the board found no major neglect of duty. He briefly considered thanking the good Major for his aid in his defense, but decided against it. After all, Yui had taught him that one could be magnificent without being a bastard. It was, sadly, one of the few lessons that he still had some trouble with.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 17, 1915, late evening_

It had been a long day for Gendo Ikari. The hearing had finished up soon enough, but the work of the commanding Admiral of the First Home Defense Fleet was never ending. And the workload of the man tasked with defending Tokyo from the Angels was added on top of that. He was one of perhaps 2 or 3 people in Tokyo that knew what hardships this city would have to face in the coming months. It was his job to ensure it was still standing when the attacks ceased. If the attacks ceased. The warning that the third Angel was coming had told him that his other masters knew a lot more than he did about the Angels, and that made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Leaning back in his chair, he felt something in the pocket of his uniform. He extracted the object and found a small note that someone had slipped him sometime during the day. He frowned. He kept his distance from people - part of maintaining the facade of the lone warrior in command - making this rather hard. And for most of the day, he had been at the Palace Grounds and well away from people.

Opening it, he read

"Admiral Ikari,

If the Evangelion is only capable of being piloted by a single adolescent person...why are there two seats in every Evangelion?

- Kirishima"

Gendo could not help but smile at this. It was not a very nice smile - that kind he reserved for his wife - but the smile of a man looking forward to something. Kirishima was apparently the name of the Army Intelligence officer that had sat in on his hearing. And apparently, she had managed to deduct that his explanation for selecting a boy as the pilot had been, to borrow a vulgar term for it, bullshit. Which put her above 90% of the army officers Gendo had met in his life.

It would certainly have been a lot harder for him if she had actually been the one sitting in for the Army and asking questions, but the fact that she was only a woman had prevented this. The devastation of Second Impact had made it necessary to admit women into the armed forces (over the stubborn resistance of some high ranking officers), but they still were limited to rear area and support duties. With a new generation of boys growing up, there were even some people who wanted to see them removed from the army (and, presumably, back to the task of raising the next generation of soldiers), citing that there was no longer a need for them. Gendo, for his part, thought that a very stupid idea. He did not think very high of Clausewitz, but the Prussian had been right on one thing: The side that was willing to wage a more total war would usually win against the side that restricted its warfare for whatever reasons. In short, Japan would not win in a war in which her opponents continued to mobilize the potential of their female population if she did not do the same. As with every development in the field of warfare, the wheel of time could not be turned back on this one. This particular djin was out of the bottle.

Gendo put the letter into a desk drawer and made a mental note to ask the Naval Counterintelligence Unit about Ms. Kirishima. He had no doubt that they would be able to tell him some very useful things.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 22, 1915, morning_

A week after his battle with the monster that had attacked Tokyo, Shinji had been released from the hospital to a waiting Captain Ryouji. It could have been a beautiful day, the sun was shining (as it did pretty much every day since Second Impact), the birds were singing, and the city reeked of decaying flesh.

As it had turned out, Tokyo Bay was not deep enough to be able to deal with several dozen tons of meat being dumped into it.

Though he had been released from the hospital, Shinji was still bandaged and Ritsuko (he refused to call her Dr. Ikari) had made it clear that he better not try and sleep on his back for at least another week. Given the pain he had felt the last time he had tried to roll over half asleep, Shinji wasn't likely to disobey.

Captain Ryouji had handed him his official transfer papers - the letter he had received back at the Academy was just a marching order - making him an officially approved Evangelion pilot, currently the only one in Japan. This wasn't such a big problem, since there was only a single Evangelion in Japan anyway.

He had also handed Shinji an official briefing paper on the Evangelion - which Shinji would have greatly appreciated about a week ago. Or at least in time for him to read it while he spent his days on his stomach in the hospital.

At least his night time visitor hadn't returned, and Shinji was just about ready to write the whole episode off as a trick of his exhausted mind.

Ryouji took them over to the Evangelion hangar, driving the staff car at what must have seemed to him like a glacial pace to account for Shinji's injuries. Meanwhile, Shinji was leafing through the Evangelion's manual as best he could with all the bumping and the pain it brought with it.

Half of the stuff he knew already - the energy supply, the emergency engine, the control system. Other things were new to him, like the fact that the Evangelion supposedly had 4 Maxim machine guns installed that would fire from the its shoulders. That would have been nice to know before going into hand to hand combat against an enemy his own size, whether protected by an invisible shield or not.

Resulting from the revelation and the not very pleasant ride, Shinji was not in the best of moods when the arrived at the giant hangar doors. Captain Ryouji, on the other hand, seemed to be back to his old, cheerful self.

Inside the hangar, chaos reigned. Or so it seemed to Shinji, who could make out no system in the piles of twisted metal lying around the hangar floor. In the middle of it, the Evangelion sat like he had first seen it, kneeling on the hangar floor, like a warrior in deep thought before his next battle. A currently one armed warrior, to be exact.

A scaffold nearby held some piece of machinery, and it was this scaffold that Captain Ryouji led him to. Several workers were welding bits and pieces to it, and as he approached, Shinji became aware that it was, in fact, the Evangelion's left arm.

They stopped next to a man in the uniform of a Lieutenant of the Imperial Navy, who was regarding the whole affair with a look of quiet satisfaction. He seemed completely engrossed in watching the work crews, and so it took him a short while to realize that there were people standing next him. It took him a moment longer, and a quiet cough from Captain Ryouji, before he saluted in response to Shinji, who had held his for the entire time. Ryouji, as always, did not salute when he did not feel like it.

"This is Lieutenant Hyuga. He is responsible for maintaining the Evangelion. Lieutenant, this is Ensign Ikari. He wrecked your Evangelion."

Shinji thought that this was a very unfair introduction, all things considered, but Hyuga did not seem too troubled with it. Perhaps he knew about Ryouji's sense of humor. Still, Shinji gave a short apology and a small bow, before his back acted up again, and he resolved to be a little bit more rude in such cases for the next few weeks.

"Did you give him his papers?", Hyuga asked, and Shinji wordlessly held up the folder in his hands.

"Good. Sorry we couldn't get them to you sooner, but it is highly classified. And, well, we don't actually have a proper manual for it. Evangelions are still under development, so what we do here is pretty much just improvisation, you know, getting rid of the teething problems before we start mass production. Not of this one, obviously, I mean just look at it, it was designed ten years ago, it is just the test type after all, practically no military value to speak off..."

He rambled on, oblivious to the fact the Shinji had long since lost track of what he meant. Ryouji shot Shinji a glance that told volumes of the Captain's opinion of the other man. Hyuga was obviously one of the many young men in post Second Impact Japan that had signed up to have the military pay for university, and was now here to serve his 18 months, until he became a reservist and could go on with his civilian life. Engineering students were much sought after, with all the new machines that had to be operated and maintained in a Navy that was getting more and more complex weapons - Zeppelins, submarines, and, of course, Evangelions.

"...no option for mounting bigger caliber guns on it either, I really don't know what they were thinking with this one, I mean sure, it was the first one we build over here, and it was bound to be rather primitive, but there is really no rhyme or reason to its equipment, unless you think it was build specifically to fight with a giant lance or something, I mean that is just not the way we fight wars nowadays..."

Hyuga's manners made Shinji wonder why he had been placed in charge of maintaining Japan's first (and right now only) Evangelion. But the more he learned about the First Home Defense Fleet, the more he came to the conclusion that it was perhaps not the most elite of outfits. That was not to say it was ineffective, but after the strict and sometimes harsh discipline at the Naval Academy, the real world seemed pretty lax to Shinji, who had always thought the well disciplined soldiers were the mark of a good unit. After all, discipline was one of the most basic components of soldierly life, meaning that well disciplined soldiers (as opposed to merely disciplined soldiers) probably liked to be soldiers, and were therefore good soldiers.

"...it is really too bad you had to drive it so hard, the entire left side is busted, and we couldn't salvage the left arm, that was just scrap metal, I mean I understand that it was a battle and all that and stuff gets broken in combat, sure, but still I wouldn't mind at all if you could just try and get it back in one piece next time..."

But then again, Hyuga obviously enjoyed talking about the Evangelion, and while he apparently did not get on well with the whole soldier and discipline business, he seemed a competent enough technician. It was just that he talked so damn much.

"...and when i saw that attack, I was inspired! I still have to talk about this with the Doctor and the Admiral, but I'm pretty sure they will approve it. So don't worry Ensign, you will have the Evangelion back as good as new. Better than new, in fact."

It took Shinji a moment to notice that the torrent of words had stopped, and silence, blessed silence reigned. Apart from the various sounds a maintenance crew makes when it works with heavy machinery on other heavy machinery. Captain Ryouji was slightly quicker on the uptake.

"So when do you think he can start training with it?" he asked Hyuga's back, since the other man had already turned back to watch the work crew.

"Oh. Well. The way he moved the Evangelion means he has the basics down, so it wouldn't make sense to get him into it before we are done anyway. A week, minimum, I guess. Besides, the Doctor told me that he won't be cleared for it before next week anyway."

And with that, he left to supervise another work crew in another part of the hangar. Ryouji seemed to be satisfied with this answer and motioned Shinji to leave with him.

"Now Shinji, I hope you memorized everything the Lieutenant told you. Everything he said is vital for operating the Evangelion. You did listen carefully, right?" he said, in what Shinji thought (and hoped) was a sarcastic tone.

"I, err, well...you see..."

"Ensign Ikari?"

Unable to come up with anything resembling an excuse, Shinji decided that it was best to acknowledge his failure before stalling further.

"No, I did not Sir. No excuse. Sir."

Ryouji gave a sigh of obvious and deep disappointment. Perhaps he feared that he would have to hear the entire thing again. Standing next to the staff car, he shook his head and looked sideways at Shinji.

"'No, I did not, Sir.' No witty comeback. You know Ensign, you have to get yourself a proper sense of humor. It's the most important thing for a modern soldier. Those who retain the humor, even in the darkest of times, can persevere. Those who don't, go crazy."

Shinji spent the ride to their next stop pondering if he really wanted to fit a SNLF officer's definition of sane.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Junior Officer Housing Area_  
_Tokyo_  
_June 22, 1915, midday_

After yet another bumpy ride, spent mostly in silence, they arrived at Shinji's new home. Shinji had feared he would be put with his father and his new wife, but thankfully, his father had apparently decided otherwise. It would have been awkward to say the least, both the offer and the following refusal.

But now they stood before the long brick building, and despite Shinji's insistence, Captain Ryouji had shouldered the bag of his belongings (which had been sent over from Kobe after only a week). With an extravagant gesture, the captain held open the door for a Shinji who was getting more and more embarrassed, though by now there was a healthy amount of frustration mixed into it. Perhaps the Captain thought this a good way to stimulate Shinji's sense of humor. If so, it clearly wasn't working very well.

Once inside, they set out to find the officer that was supposed to be in charge of the housing area. In what Shinji had come to expect of the First Home Defense Fleet, he was not to be found at his post. After 10 minutes of waiting, Captain Ryouji told Shinji that he had other places to be, dropped the bag and left Shinji to wait next to the empty table.

Another 10 minutes passed without any sign of a ranking officer, before finally a young man appeared. He took one look at Shinji, his eyes widening when he noticed the sword hanging from Shinji's belt, and then hurried to his table.

To Shinji's continued embarrassment, the older (and therefore probably senior) ensign saluted him first. Remembering his promise to be slightly more rude (and wanting to go somewhere where he could sit down), he did not bother to correct him, saluting practices between officers with swords and officers without swords being a hotly debated topic anyway - with the opinions neatly split between those that had swords and those that did not.

"Sir!" the Ensign shouted, "I apologize for not being here sooner, but it is rare we get new officers of your grade, and it is about lunchtime, and..." he took a look at Shinji's face, which was in a state between severe annoyance at so much unprofessionalism and severe annoyance that the ensign was treating him like he was a Rear Admiral. The other officer, of course, interpreted his expression entirely the wrong way.

"I...no excuses, sir."

Shinji could almost hear the mental 'please don't kill me' following the apology. After all, he had added it many a time when uttering the same line. He waved him off.

"Can you show me to my room?"

"Sir!", the Ensign shouted, having apparently fallen back into a mode of behavior more appropriate to someone new at the Naval Academy, who had just learned that the only way for junior and senior officers to communicate with each other was to shout.

Shinji tried very hard not to roll his eyes at that, but made no motion to stop the Ensign when he went to carry Shinij's bag. It was clear by now that the Ensign was of the type that was - privately - considered best suited to lead assault waves in the SNLF, because running over a beach in a more or less straight line made a good example for the men and did not try those officer's mental capabilities too hard. As opposed to, say, commanding a garbage chute in Tokyo Harbour.

They went up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor, with doors going off to one side in regular intervals. The other side of the corridor was made up by windows that allowed the midday sun to light it up. In short, it was exactly the same building that may be found on any of the dozens of new naval bases that sprung up after Second impact redrew Japan's coast lines, and which always - always - housed the the junior officers.

"I'm very sorry, but we just got a bunch of other officers from one of the other naval bases. Apparently the building for junior officers over there got hit by artillery fire during the attack, so they had to send them here for housing. I'm afraid you'll have to share your room with two ensigns."

Shinji, being used to share the room with 50 cadets, was not too depressed by this turn of events. He did wonder, however, where he would have ended up if there had been free capacity. Probably with his own room, something he had not had since he entered the Naval Academy more than 5 years ago. For a moment, he did feel a pang of regret at it, but it vanished quickly.

His guide stopped at a door that looked remarkably unremarkable.

"Your room, sir. Your roommates are probably still out eating lunch."

He remained where he stood, looking at Shinji somewhat expectantly. It took Shinji a moment to realize what he was waiting for, and after a formal dismissal the Ensign left him alone, his relief over handling such a tricky situation so well very visible on his face. After all, Shinji had not killed him (there was the stubborn rumor that officers with swords were allowed to behead swordless officers on sight), demoted him, or worse, sent him to clean the toilets.

Shinji opened the door to his new home and stepped inside. Looking around the room, Shinji was positively surprised. After his experiences with the personnel of the First Home Defense Fleet, he had expected to find this place a dump. Instead, it was reasonably well kept, with the belongings of his two roommates stashed under their beds - not that they had much, being very junior officers.

The beds stood in three of the corners of the room, and the others had left a bit of a personal note around theirs. That was not at all uncommon, cadets being allowed the same around their beds (after the first 6 months, that is). After he had dumped his bag at the sole unmade, and therefore his, bed in the room, Shinji sat down on one of the two chairs in the room (typical Imperial Navy policy, to have two chairs in a room for three people) and waited for for the Ensign to come back with his bedclothes, which he had apparently and unsurprisingly forgotten to bring with him.

His eyes wandered through the empty room, and without really wanting to, he started to study the beds of his roommates. Or more specifically, what was around them. Since they would probably share the room for quite some time - Imperial Navy repair crews being what they were - it would be inevitable that they would get to know each other very, very well. There was no real privacy until one made Captain (or found a particularly dumb Ensign in charge of housing arrangements), even Lieutenants being usually billeted in pairs.

Throwing another look at the door, he walked over to one of the tables in the room, standing next to one of the occupied beds. While the other table was almost spartan in terms of personal belongings, only holding two photographs of girls of various ages, this one was positively overflowing. There were no photographs that Shinji could see, but that did not mean much, as the table was completely covered in books, magazines and newspapers of one kind or another. Crouching down to get his head level with the table and able to read the titles - his back painfully protesting against his curiosity - he quickly found that there were only a few novels, but seemed to be technical in nature. There were magazines on radio technology; Jane's All the World's Fighting Ships, which Shinji already knew from the library back at the Naval Academy; a book by a man named Holland about submarines and another by a man named Wells about a war of the worlds that Shinji had never heard about. Maybe it was a misprint of a book called Wars of the World, which would make a great deal more sense to have as reading material.

When the door opened, and it was not the Ensign he expected standing in the doorway, Shinji realized one thing: he had severely overestimated the intelligence of people that held low level officer positions in the Imperial Navy. The two people in the doorway and Shinji regarded each other warily. They were an odd couple, a tall one with unruly black hair and a figure that suggested that he took the fitness requirements very seriously, and a shorter one with glasses and freckles, and a figure that suggested that he dreaded morning PA a lot. Since neither of them was carrying any sort of sheets, they were probably his roommates.

A heartbeat later, the shorter of the duo broke the ice and took two steps towards Shinji. Holding out his hand, he said "Hey. My name is Kensuke Aida. The other guy-" he made a gesture towards his companion, still standing in the door, "- is Toji Suzuhara. I guess you are our new roommate?"

Shinji nodded and shook the hand he was offered.

"Shinji Ikari. Say, you wouldn't know where to get some sheets for my bed, would you?"

The Suzuhara boy had by now moved into the room. He sent a glare in the direction of Shinji and Aida before he crashed on his bed and continued to glare at the ceiling. Shinji and the other Ensign exchanged a look and left the room to begin their quest for linen. Before they had even made it to the end of the hallway, Aida's curiosity got the better of him.

"So, Ikari...are you related to The Admiral?"

"The Admiral?", Shinji asked, puzzled over the particular way the other Ensign had pronounced the title.

"Admiral Ikari, obviously. We call him The Admiral to keep him apart from The Doctor. Guess that makes you The Ensign."

Shinji gave a short sigh. This was perhaps the worst possible conversation topic, and they had reached less than one minute after meeting each other. Face twisting into a sardonic smile, Shinji figured that this had to be a new personal record.

"He is my father."

"Must be great to have someone like The Admiral and The Doctor for parents."

Shinji shook his head and made a desperate attempt at changing topics.

"Not nearly as much as you'd think. Say, your roommate..."

Leading him down a flight of stairs, Aida gave a short apologetic shrug.

"Well, you have to forgive him. He had a pretty bad week, with the attack and all."

Shinji frowned. The other boy hadn't seemed injured at all, and hardship was a fact of life for soldiers. But then again, so was whining about it.

"How bad?"

"The house his family was in was destroyed during the attack. And so was the house of the girl he likes. So he figured she would be probably moving away. So he he dressed up and went to her and, well, proposed, so she could live on base as a spouse. About an hour ago, as a matter of fact."

Shinji could see where this was going.

"She turned him down?"

The other boy shook his head.

"Turns out her father isn't too happy with the idea of his daughter marrying, let alone someone who wants to become an SNLF officer."

Shinji silently agreed that this explained a lot. The words SNLF officer candidate told you everything you needed to know about a person. Fit. Stubborn. Slightly crazy. Not exactly the hands one would want to give one's daughter into.

"To be fair to him, it would have been a good way for her to end up as a widow of twenty-five."

Aida snickered.

"You haven't met Hikari-chan. If Touji dies without her express permission, she would travel to the Afterworld to drag him back. No, it is not her father he is worried about...Here we are."

They had stopped before a door. Shinji pressed down the handle to open it, but found it locked. He gave a sigh and turned to look for someone with a key - probably that damnable Ensign - when Aida held him back.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to try something.", he said, fishing around in his uniform until he found the small leather pouch he was looking for. Shinji stepped back from the door and motioned him forward, curious what he had in mind.

"Now, if you would be so kind and keep an eye out..."

He dropped to a crouch before the door and produced a small set of tools from the pouch. Taking a close look at the lock, he started to mutter to himself. With a shock Shinji realized that the other Ensign was going to pick the lock. He considered stopping him and getting the key, since being caught picking a lock on an Imperial Navy base would mean serious trouble, even more so compared to the trouble of going to find that damnable Ensign, but as he finished the thought, Aida stood up, pushed the handle down and the door swung open. Giving Shinji a rather arrogant smile, the other Ensign pocketed his tools and made an extravagant gesture towards the open door. Shinji did not know whether he should thank him or yell at him for being so stupid, and therefore settled for remaining silent. After all, yelling would only draw attention. And, really, he should have expected something like this. It was the First Home Defense Fleet, after all. Shinji gave a mental sigh and cursed whoever decided that the last line of defense should consist of the worst the country had to offer. After all, if everyone else had failed, it wouldn't do to have the First Home Defense Fleet ruin the enemy's day, right?

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base_  
_Junior Officer Housing Area_  
_June 22, early afternoon_

A pack of fresh linen under one arm, and trying to look completely at ease, Shinji made his way back to their room. His companion did not have to carry anything, and somehow that made him look perfectly at ease. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact with proof of their wrongdoing. Perhaps he was just unaware of the position they were in. If anyone asked where they had gotten this...  
On the other hand, this was the First Home Defense Fleet. Shinji started to get the feeling no one would care about one set of sheets missing from the inventory, and chances were that no one would wonder why a locked door was suddenly unlocked.

But that still didn't mean that Shinji appreciated the whistling of his companion as they walked. The last thing he wanted was for someone to decide that they were far too underemployed and conscript them for some work detail.

To Shinji's eternal surprise and gratitude, they made the way back to their room without incident. That was not to say that his ordeal was over when he stepped into his new home. When he dumped his load of linen on his bed he noticed that something was missing. His sword, which he had left with the rest of his belongings, was no longer there.

"Looking for this?" asked the voice of Ensign Suzuhara from the other bed. Shinji turned around and, sure enough, he was holding Shinji's sword.

"As a matter of fact, I do.", Shinji answered as calmly as possible.

"Did your daddy get you this, Ikari?", came the reply in the same, rather angry voice. "Did he pull some strings so his little boy can get a sword? Did he get you a ticket to some piracy patrol, so you can claim you were in combat?" The other boy sat up. "Because if you ask me, you don't look like much of a warrior."

Shinji knew how this went. If you put 50 adolescent boys into a room, as the Naval Academy had done, such occurrences happened daily - for about a month, then it died down. Unless new people moved in. As with all confrontations, there were two ways to deal with this. One was to yield. One was to attack. Both in wargames and in real life, Shinji was not someone who fought hopeless battles - the officers that did usually ended up in rear area postings or in the SNLF, the later having a bit of a reputation to maintain - but his training had also taught him to fight when a fight was inevitable, and Suzuhara looked like he wanted to make it a fight. If Shinji would yield, he would probably look for something else to escalate the situation.

Resolved that battle was inevitable, Shinji went about to make stratagems.

"I got it for coming here. And do you want to know why?"

He took a step closer to the bed, forcing the other boy to look up at him, little though the difference in height was. They were staring at each other, each trying to force the opponent to look away and admit defeat. Not every fight had to become physical. Sometimes, things could be solved by proving that one had the stronger nerves.

"Because they called me to kill that thing that attacked the city."

Shinji heard Aida suck in his breath. Szuhara's face darkened considerably, and Shinji couldn't help but feel like he had overlooked something when he had made that statement.

Oh right. Suzuhara's not-quite-fiancé was moving away because he may or may not have stepped on her house. And on the house of Suzuhara's family, which, true to form, probably contained his favorite dog as well. In retrospect, insulting his mother would probably have been the better idea.

Suzuhara stood up from the bed, his face now only inches away from Shinji's.

"So you're that idiot who couldn't walk in a straight line. Well, I guess this does belong to you after all."

He thrust the sword - hilt first, thankfully - into Shinji's guts, forcing him to take a step back. Confused, Shinji looked down and grabbed the weapon. While he was fastening it to his belt, where it belonged, he congratulated himself on successfully defusing the situation while still achieving his objective.

"And so does THIS!"

Shinji looked up in confusion. Just in time to see the fist that hit him, sending him sprawling onto his bed. Before he could gather himself, Suzuhara was on top of him.

"Just so we are clear. I don't hate you. But if you screw up again, I will make sure the next time someone is piloting who doesn't."

Shinji, not being in any position to argue - since Szuhara was too close for him to draw his sword - simply nodded. With a glare in his direction, Suzuhara left the room, presumably to find someone - or something - else to beat up. Presumably, someone who would put up a better fight than Shinji.

"Admirably handled, Ikari", said Aida dryly. "He really wanted to get into a fist fight there."

Shinji rubbed his aching chin and gingerly felt around in his mouth to see if any teeth had been knocked loose. "Well, he isn't out of the building yet. I can still change my mind."

Aida gave a snort. "Right. Now, you mentioned you were piloting the Evangelion, yes?" His eyes, it seemed to Shinji, took on an almost demonic glow. "Tell me, tell me everything."

_Imperial Army Artillery Range_  
_near Tokyo_  
_June 30, 1915, (very early) morning_

Shinji tried to stifle a yawn as he stood next to his Evangelion. Overlooking the large and open area, he failed. In his defense, it was an ungodly hour, and he had had to walk the Evangelion here, meaning he had to get up even earlier. And an officer of his rank was not allowed such luxuries as coffee to make the morning bearable.

"Still tired, Shinji? Thoughts of someone keeping you up at night?"

Captain Ryouji, on the other hand, while technically not allowed either, did not care for such restrictions and was therefor a great deal more awake than his subordinate. He was also a great deal more talkative, but that had nothing to do with the coffee.

"I'm afraid not."

"Was that a snarky comeback, Ensign? Because it almost sounded like one from here. Good to know you are finally adapting to the way we do things."

Shinji, for his part, was not nearly as glad as Ryouji. Maybe he was right, and the First Home Defense Fleet had started to rub off on him. He certainly wouldn't have dared to give such lip back at the academy. Then again, maybe it was just the early hour. Sleep deprivation always did strange things to his manners.

A siren sounded over the area, signaling that the range was clear and firing could begin.

"Now, Shinji, did you read the manual?"

It had taken him some effort to hide it from Aida, and from the smug grin the bespectacled boy wore for most of the week, Shinji wasn't quite sure if he had succeeded.

"Yes."

"And the book on spear fighting I got you?"

That had been a lot more interesting than the rather dry manual. It had been a reprint of a very old manuscript, written back in the days when the Shoguns of Japan had fought amongst themselves. It dealt with the multitude of ways to wield the Yari, a heavy lance. While the spear he had used in combat was shorter - relative to the size of the Evangelion, of course - it was not directly applicable, but the moves described in it would certainly be helpful. Being completely devoid of any mention of electricity or internal combustion engines, it was also completely uninteresting for Aida, making it a lot more relaxing to read in his presence.

"That, too."

"Good. Get in the Evangelion. We will start with basic gunnery."

Trying to stifle yet another yaw - and failing again - he walked back towards the repaired machine. There had been some mention of a hand held machine gun working on the Gatling principle - whatever that was - bought from Germany, but that hadn't arrived yet. So the only gunnery was the training with the Evangelions internal machine guns, two on - or rather, in - each shoulder. According to Lieutenant Hyuga, that was very little in terms of firepower, compared to what the other Evangelions could bring. But then again, the Lieutenant had rambled on, the true capabilities of other nation's constructions were all a closely guarded secret.

The lack of formal training meant that Shinji had been told to make up tactics and procedures as he went. In fact, as the Lieutenant had told him, making them up was pretty much of the reason he was here. They needed a test pilot, and he was it. And in the very unlikely event of yet another sea monster attacking Tokyo, he was there to take it on.

Shinji still wasn't sure if he had been joking with that last part.

One of the first things he had learned was how to leave an Evangelion in the field, without proper equipment to get in and out of it easily, like they had back at the home base. Curiously, there were no ladders anywhere on the machine, so getting up to the cockpit from the ground was not that simple. The reverse was even more problematic, since the pilot needed help to get out of the harness - the switch to release it was in the rear cockpit. Which made it somewhat uncomfortable for Shinji to ride alone, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get out in a catastrophic event. Battlefields also tended to create catastrophic events in complex machines deployed on them, but that was something he tried not to think too hard about.

He approached the giant machine. He had knelt it down, as was standard procedure when switched off. He had also made very sure to leave its arm in a position to allow him to get up to the head and into the cockpit. While he had taken the same way down as he had intended to take back up, he was under no illusions that gravity had helped him down, but probably won't help him up. Standing before the enormous war machine, he wondered if he shouldn't have insisted on a proper ladder, either by taking it along from home base or by forcing them to have one here. It would be very embarrassing if they found out now that he couldn't get back up. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to use the Evangelions hands to ferry Captain Ryouji up towards the rear cockpit instead of making him try to climb up.

But then again, the saying in the Imperial Navy went "If the SNLF can't get to it, we probably don't want to own it anyway." The fact that Ryouji could reach the cockpit didn't mean a mere mortal could.

Either way, he decided, standing on the ground admiring the problem did not get him any closer to solving it, and so resolved to begin the climb. Stepping on the metal of the lower arm, he was glad that it was a sunny day. Fog or rain would have made the steel slick, and going up would have become completely impossible. Still, the upper arm was a lot steeper on the way up than he remembered it from the way down, and it took a hearty lunge to get him up on the shoulder. Looking down, he decided two things. One was to bring a ladder whenever it was possible that he would have to leave the Evangelions cockpit in the field. The other was not to look down when he was standing unsupported on the shoulder of a giant. It wasn't that he was afraid of heights - that would have killed his career as an Evangelion pilot right quick - but it did get him thinking on the terrible death he would have died, falling from the arm to the concrete below, if he hadn't managed to grab a handhold on the shoulder, and now was not the best time to ponder the fragility of the human body.

He scrambled up towards the cockpit hatch, and then into the cockpit. Despite being only his third time, he found the stirrups a lot quicker, and finished getting into harness in what had to be a new personal record. Since the rear cockpit was empty, he had to use the emergency system to tighten up the harness. It was supposed to ensure that the pilot could operate the Evangelion in a situation when his co-pilot wasn't available. Why it only worked to tighten the harness, but did not allow to release it was anyone's guess. Perhaps the engineers who had built it wanted the pilot to be properly motivated to bring the - hideously expensive - Evangelion back home instead of abandoning it in the field. Which meant that the rear seat, being without harness and with control over the harness itself, was the one that decided whether the pilot lived or died. Shinji resolved to make sure he was good friends with whoever was going to be riding behind him into combat. And, should he die in the control harness, that he would find the guy who designed that system and haunted him for all eternity.

Standing well in front of the Evangelion, Ryouji gave him a thumbs up and nodded to an unseen technician. The Evangelion powered up, the dials in front of him turning into the positions they were supposed to be in, and Shinji commanded his metal giant to rise. With steps that shook the very ground - making very sure he didn't step on anyone - he maneuvered towards the first firing position. His thumb rested lightly on the trigger built into the right hand hold, ready to send a stream of bullets onto whatever target he wished.

The Evangelion did not, as such, have a real aiming system. Presumably, the production model would. The more he heard about it, the more Shinji thought the production model would also feature gold plated armor and aerial torpedoes. The work around for Unit 1 was - and it had taken Shinji several attempts to understand, as he kept thinking he had misread it - to fire, see where the impacts were going and then walk the fire to the target in salvos. How that was supposed to work in combat, he had no idea. If the enemy was kind enough to let him make the adjustments, he deserved whatever was coming to him.

Still, orders were orders, and Shinji was calmly waiting in a firing position usually reserved for machine gunners in the Imperial Army. A target flipped up about half a kilometer downrange. Turning slightly to the left, he gently pressed down on the trigger. Flames shot out of the Evangelions shoulder as the 4 machine guns spat their bullets downrange. He let up on the trigger after a short moment, just as he had been told, in order to judge the impacts. However, with the target obscured by dust, that proved almost impossible.

He waited for the dust to settle, only to find the target completely untouched. Feeling slightly silly, he squeezed the trigger again. He noticed that the sound of the guns, muffled though it was through the Evangelion's armor, was weaker on the right than on the left. Looking over, he could only see one gout of flame shoot out, when there should have been two. Shinji gave a groan and tried to settle deeper into the harness, which caused the Evangelion to shudder a bit, spraying bullets all over the range. One of the guns had already jammed. He gave a deep sigh. Apparently, this would be one of those days.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Commanders Office_  
_Tokyo_  
_July 3, 1915, late evening_

"...repairs on the left arm are completed, and Lieutenant Hyuga has also installed an upgrade that should somewhat enhance close combat capabilities. Damage to the frame was a lot less severe than we - I - had initially anticipated. I have declared Unit 1 fit for all operations again and the test program has already begun again. There is a preliminary report on the pilot's findings and suggestions, it is at the back of my written report."

Gendo nodded.

"That will be all."

"Will you read it?"

"Yes."

The true answer would be 'Yes, if I find the time, which I won't', but she didn't need to know that. It was, in a way, very noble of her to speak out for Shinji. It was almost like she was his mother, not that Shinji would ever acknowledge that. Unfortunately, his son had never understood his decision to marry again, and had been downright hostile every time he had met Gendo's new wife. Considering that he was usually a very polite boy - a bit too much gentleman and too little officer, in Gendo's opinion - this stood out even more. But that was a battle long since lost.

"Are you coming?"

"I still have work to do. Don't wait for me."

He always told himself that she knew what she was getting into when she married a navy officer. That she had to have known. If he got a ship, he would be away months at a time, deployed to the most dangerous places a human could be in. If he got a shore command - as, indeed, he had - he would work long hours. Ritsuko did not complain about it, but he could see the flash of annoyance about falling sleeping alone, again, and probably waking up alone, again.

It was a sad fact that the best laid plans came to him when he was almost alone in the base, alone except for the guard at the entrance desk. It also made security a great deal easier.

When Gendo looked up, his wife was gone, and in her stead stood a courier. He handed Gendo an unmarked envelope, bowed, and left.

With a feeling of dread - there was only one organization he knew that was sending unmarked letters by courier - he ripped it open, and found a single sheet of paper inside. He took it out, unfolded it and read the three words on it:

"The fourth approaches."

And for a moment, he wondered if it would not be better if he spent the night with his wife after all. It might be the last.

First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar  
Tokyo  
July 5, 1915, morning

Concrete floor made for bad sleeping. This should be obvious, but 24 hours into the invasion alert exercise, Shinji was just about ready to take a radical new approach to testing this theory. After an exhausting day at the firing range, he had been dragged out of bed almost as soon as he had fallen into it. Apparently, The Admiral had decided hold a maneuver and war game right in that moment, to test the Fleet's ability to withstand a sudden and prolonged attack.

And so half asleep soldiers had rushed to their battle stations, manned their posts, and prepared to die before sunrise, if necessary. That night, Shinji learned one of the most basic fundaments of military thinking: Get ready early, you can always wait. Nothing had happened that night. Nothing had happened the following day. Again, nothing had happened during the night. Still, they were at full alert, the soldiers manning the stations by now a good deal more than half asleep. At least he had been allowed to get out of the Evangelion, after 4 hours of waiting in harness but powered down. It had taken half an hour longer before he had felt his legs again. But he wasn't allowed out of the hangar. Nor was he allowed to sleep, because apparently, the minute it would take to wake him would prove very crucial in the battle. Shinji wondered if anyone had thought that him falling asleep in mid-battle might prove crucial, too. Much like the hangar crew, he stood around, bored out of his skull, waiting for either the enemy - real, simulated or hallucinated, given his state of mind - to show up or the exercise to be called off.

It was with mixed feelings that he saw Lieutenant Hyuga walk through the hangar towards him. On the one hand, he would be lectured again, one the other hand, it would probably keep him from falling asleep. Then again, it would keep him from falling asleep. And the broad smile the Lieutenant wore did nothing to improve Shinji's mood or opinion of him. Still, he snapped a salute.

"Morning, Ensign. How are you holding up so far?"

"As well as anyone, I would say.", Shinji replied, still holding his salute. As usual, the Lieutenant did not bother to return it.

"Coffee?", he asked, holding out a cup to Shinji.

Shinji dropped his salute. Of course the Lieutenant could not return it when he was holding two cups of coffee. Shinji shook his head and blamed the sleep deprivation for not noticing it.

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed..."

The lieutenant thrust the cup in his direction again.

"They gave out combat rations, and that means coffee. Wouldn't want our only pilot falling asleep in combat, now would we? No, we wouldn't."

Shinji recognized a hidden order when he heard one, but still accepted the cup with a certain amount of gratitude. Not that he ever had coffee before. It was reserved to higher officers and, apparently, prolonged combat operations. A country like Japan, which had lost a good 20% of its agricultural area during Second Impact, had other priorities when it came to importing goods. He slowly raised the cup to his lips and took his first sip. Frowning at the bitter taste, he found the experience a bit of a disappointment. Hyuga broke the silence once again.

"So, what do you say?"

Shinji frowned at his coffee, unsure of the best way to respond without wasting any chance of ever getting along with the Lieutenant again. The man did, after all, maintain the machine he would have to trust his life on, so angering him was not in his best interest. Not in his best interest at all.

"It is...unusual.", he ventured, casting a questioning glance at the other officer.

Judging by the broad smile on Hyuga's face, that was exactly the right thing to say.

"Exactly. It's something no other Evangelion has - to my knowledge, obviously, but the direction weapon development, as far as Evangelions are concerned, has been towards ranged weaponry. And that makes them vulnerable in close quarters. When both sides have only ranged weapons, that is not a problem, because the enemy gains nothing from closing the range, but with this -", his glasses shone brightly as if to emphasize the point " - Unit 1 has the edge in hand to hand combat. Literally."

He chuckled at his own joke. Shinji, on the other hand, had the distinct feeling that they were talking about entirely different subjects. Even in his sleep deprived state - or perhaps because of it - using a coffee mug as a melee weapon in an Evangelion made no sense at all. He took another sip to avoid answering, which suited the engineer next to him just fine. Once started on one of his favorite subjects - the Evangelion, in general and in particular - he would not stop until the circumstances forced him to.

"And it adds only about 200 kilograms of weight. It's always a trade-off with Evangelions, weight versus fighting strength, but I think it's worth it, really. At least now you won't feel naked when the machine guns run out of ammunition."

Shinji wanted to reply that he had gone into combat the first time not even knowing about the machine guns, and hadn't felt naked at all - nervous, maybe, but certainly not naked. But since the Lieutenant had brought the topic up, now was just as good a time as any.

"Or if they jam."

Hyuga gave a sigh.

"Well, thats what happens when you use a gun designed for use by infantry. A soldier could fix the jam pretty quickly, but if its built into an Evangelion...I guess you will just have to make do. It is fixed in the production model. Probably."

Gold-plated armor and aerial torpedoes, Shinji thought with a certain amount of bitterness. Perhaps he would live long enough to actually see the production model, if this one didn't kill him well before that. A thought formed in the back of his head, a connection between what he had read in the manual and what the Lieutenant had just told him.

"Erm, Sir, maybe I'm just misunderstanding, but I thought I read that the limit of functions accessible to the pilot has already been reached. So how do I use this new weapon?" he asked, in a what he hoped was the voice of someone who asked a minor technical detail, instead of someone who had never read the maintenance logs.

"Oh, we reassigned something to the copilots seat. Nothing major. Left thumb button extends the blade in the left arm."

Shinji frowned again at his half empty cup of coffee.

"That was the emergency fuel dump, right?"

The Lieutenant waved him off.

"Yes, but it was only supposed to allow you to dump excess weight if you got into an area with soft ground. Nothing critical for battle. After all, you wouldn't want to be standing in a puddle of easily inflammable gasoline when you are in combat, right?"

Shinji guessed not. He also guessed that it would be fixed in the production model. But still, the original engineer had apparently thought it important enough to give control directly to the pilot, instead of handing it over to the copilot in the rear. He finished his coffee and pushed that concern to the back of his mind. Sometimes, one just had to trust the judgment of people who were trained to make those decisions, and besides, he was just the pilot. All he really could do was file a complaint with Captain Ryouji, who would probably think he was just making up preliminary excuses.

Giving a mental sigh, he handed the empty cup back to the Lieutenant and went back to his Evangelion. Just in time for the sirens.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_Overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_July 5, 1915, morning_

He had begun to question the wisdom of his decisions. Soldiers could only stay alert for so long, and by now they had to have reached their limits. One could tell by the hourly reports getting more and more sluggish, and by the number of questions that had to be repeated. But standing them down would have been foolish as well. Gendo had been enough battles to know that such a decision would invariably mean that the Angel attacked within an hour of the order to stand down. So he had kept them on alert, even as night turned into day, and day into night again.

At first, the appearance at the horizon had been nothing special. It looked like a Zeppelin at the distance, hanging low over the ocean on its approach to Tokyo. Then someone had decided to check if any Zeppelin arrivals were scheduled, and found the next one to be due that afternoon, and being a flight from inside Japan, therefore coming in from another direction. Within seconds, the tone and atmosphere around him had shifted drastically. After more than a day in a constant state of alertness, the moment had come when the tension broke. There really was an enemy out there, and it was coming for them. Half of the people in the First Home Defense Fleet would consider it a pure coincidence, Gendo knew that. The other half would chalk it up as The Admiral somehow having expected this. Which, technically, he had.

Now, they had someone to fight, and the period of waiting for something - anything - to happen was over. Oddly enough, the people around him seemed to be glad to be going into the fight. It certainly beat sitting around any longer, he had to give them that.

"Sir! Unryu reports they have left the airbase and are moving to engage the enemy. They are launching their embarked fighters as soon as they have reached sufficient height. First Naval Aviation Squadron is still assembling a strike group."

Gendo nodded a thanks to the young woman from the Naval Support Service. The time spent watching the empty sky had certainly been put to good use, as everyone knew what he - or she, for that matter - had to do if an enemy attacked. If it had been an actual drill, it would have been most successful. As it stood, its success was still in doubt.

"Status of the Evangelion?" he asked the group that was assembled on the small hill he had picked to observe the battle.

"Hangar reported Unit 1 started up successfully and is ready to move out. Captain Ryouji has requested that he is allowed to act as copilot."

"Denied. Send it to the Palace Grounds. And tell Lieutenant Hyuga to make sure Ryouji follows that particular order."

It would just be like him to ignore it and go anyway. Gendo had no intentions of letting that happen, since the Captain's role in the big game was far too important to risk him in battle. Gendo's orders had been very clear on that part.

"Is it wise to send him out alone?" Fuyutsuki interjected, and not for the first time, Gendo wished he would refrain from questioning his decision when there were other people around. Especially when those people were his direct subordinates. He didn't mind explaining his orders to Fuyutsuki. It forced him to think them through, which more than once had prevented him from doing something rather stupid. The old man probably had a genuine interested as to why he did what he did, rather than trying to make him look silly. He was much too old for that.

But the commanding officer of a combat unit - and as much as the Imperial High Command was disturbed by the idea, the First Home Defense Fleet was in fact a combat unit - relied on an aura of absolute and unquestioned authority. The Admiral is always right. Unless the guy with a rank above The Admiral decided that he was wrong, in which case that guy would be right. This aura was, for one, based on the fact that The Admiral never had his orders questioned in public, much less by an officer of lower rank.

"We have no trained copilot, so anyone we send with him would just be a liability."

"Having no trained pilot did not stop you from sending him out the last time."

"The circumstances required it then, and they do not require it now.", Gendo answered, with enough force that Fuyutsuki took the hint and pursued the topic no further.

Both men stood in silence, their eyes on the small but growing speck on the horizon. The Unryu, a light scout Zeppelin, was now coming into view. Around the airship were the tiny scout fighters of its air group, circling the bigger aircraft while they waited for the last of them to launch, before forming up and heading towards the invader.

By the looks of it, they would be the first to engage the enemy. Meanwhile, the smaller ships of the Imperial Navy that were stationed in Tokyo and Yokohama Naval Base were slowly getting under way and moved to block the enemy's path into Tokyo Bay. At least this time the enemy approached in plain view, instead of sneaking in under water. Gendo frowned at the thought. Logically, that would mean that the Angel was completely unafraid of whatever the humans could throw at him, as opposed to his predecessor, who had at least had the decency to hide. Or maybe he had been the scout to see what mankind could put against them, and this one would deal the crushing blow against their weak defenses.

Simple economy of force, too, dictated that, after they had beaten back the last assault, the enemy's response would be a lot stronger. One did not send a battleship to take out a pirate's nest. One would send a destroyer group, and if the pirates proved strong enough to beat back several warships crewed by professional soldiers - which happened from time to time, considering that the distinction between 'pirate group' and 'Fleet of the pretender to the throne of England etc.' in the former Dutch East Indies was more of a case of semantics than anything else - then one would send a cruiser. And if they could beat that as well, only then came the time to assemble the fleet and level the entire place, burn the land and salt the earth.

So, he wondered, was this this angel the equivalent of a scouting destroyer, or of the First Angelic Battle Squadron, ready to turn Tokyo into a modern day Carthage?

The tiny dots that were fighter planes split up and dived, and as one, every officer not presently engaged in a vital task raised his pair of binoculars to observe. It was difficult to see at this distance, even with the binoculars. All Gendo could make out were flashes, explosions and tracers splashing against the enemy, but nothing that told anything of the effect they had on the flying monster. After the last plane finished its run, the enemy seemed unhurt and apparently paid the attackers no mind.

"Target has increased speed!" came the cry from the man on the range finder. It was supposed to guide the shore batteries, but worked just fine for observation purposes. And indeed, Gendo noticed through his binoculars, the scouts could barely keep pace. Gaining height to make attacks was out of the question, and so they settled into the flying giants wake and fired into his rear, with no apparent effect.

Within moment the Angel had passed the Unryu, which had briefly fired its dorsal cannons at it, before leaving the airship behind, with no chance to catch up. From the hill they were on, the gathered command team of the First Home Defense Fleet could see the shore batteries in Yokohama spring to life. They managed three salvos before the enemy was upon them. Unlike the last Angel, however, this one did not bother to destroy them, after their attacks had made no impression on it. It simply flew over them - no doubt causing some of the crews to consider requesting a transfer to a safer posting - and continued on as if nothing had happened.

It was not the fact that they could not hurt the Angel that bothered Gendo. He had expected this. Had they been able to do damage to it, it would have trivialized the whole thing. Not that he minded easy victories - only fools and SNLF officers wanted a challenge in war, and there were quite a few people who would argue that there was no difference between those two anyway. No, what bothered him was that the enemy wasn't slowing down at all. The last time, the Angel had spent a great deal of time on trashing the forces sent against it. This one ignored them. While it wasn't nearly as time-critical as the last time, this was still very worrying. He turned around and searched for the Evangelion. He found it lumbering through the streets between the low houses, slowly making its way towards the ruins of the Imperial Palace.

Taking a quick glance back towards the Angel - which had gained a disturbing amount of ground in the meantime - he came to the conclusion that the two would probably reach the Palace at the same time, unless the Evangelion sped up or the Angel slowed down. Noticing the slow and careful steps of the Evangelion and the complete ignorance of their efforts by the Angel, neither seemed very likely.

Moments later the Angel passed the Yokohama Naval Base, leaving the ships there behind and unable to take any part in the coming battle. The fire control officer for the shore batteries assigned to the First Home Defense Fleet shot Gendo a questioning glance, which was answered by a shake of his head. Firing on the Angel now would mean that any shell that missed its mark - and those were usually more numerous that those that found it - would continue on its way and hit the Naval Base. Gendo had his doubts whether the Angel had actually planned for this, but it certainly did not help matters.

The flying monster continued unerringly on its course, and now the assembled officers could make out its shape. Gendo's first thought was that it looked like something rather indecent. By the looks of it, so was the first thought of most of the others, before Fuyutsuki salvaged the situation with the observation that they were facing a giant flying squid. And indeed it looked like one, except that it had eyes where a squid had fins and its tentacles - only two - at entirely the wrong spot.

It went past their position, ignoring them like it had everything else on its mad flight towards the palace, but giving them the opportunity to observe its size as it flew past the hill that was acting as the Temporary Combat Headquarters. It was truly gigantic for a thing that was supposedly heavier than air, almost the size of a (very) small Zeppelin. At least 40 meters in length, and perhaps a dozen across, it would tower above even an Evangelion if it would be standing up, and easily outmassed it, too.

Looking at the retreating Angel and its entourage of biplanes, Gendo could only hope that it did not also outsmarted the pilot of Unit 1.

_Imperial Palace_  
_Tokyo_  
_July 5, 1915, morning_

This time, Shinji had made sure he didn't step on anything too valuable. He had made sure his cable was lying in the middle of the road, with enough clearance around the corners, just as he had been drilled by Lieutenant Hyuga and, in a rather different form, Ensign Suzuhara. It had taken much of his concentration, and thus he had only been able to glance at the approaching enemy from time to time.

What he had seen hadn't improved his morale at all - every attempt by the other forces had been completely ignored or was ineffective, and probably the former because of the latter. Certainly, he had the spear that had killed the last sea monster with him again this time, but knowing that there would be no support coming was not exactly heartening.

He had reached the Palace Grounds - or what was left of them - only moments ago. Turning towards the enemy he had been shocked to notice that it had already cleared the coast line of Tokyo proper and was rapidly advancing towards him. A veritable swarm of biplanes kept up a pursuit, firing at it every now and then, to no apparent effect.

Within moments the monster had cleared the remaining distance. Seeing the Evangelion it did not, as Shinji had somewhat hoped, ignore him, which would have given him the first strike. Instead, it slowed down rapidly and rose up like a cobra ready to strike. The planes pursuing it broke off to the sides in an attempt to clear the area for the two combatants. Though his eyes were fixed on his enemy, Shinji noticed from the corner of his eyes that the planes wiggled their wings as they flew past him. He assumed what the book he had read called the fundamental position: both hands around the spears shaft, tip pointed towards the enemy, body slightly turned to the right to minimize the profile and to maximize the thrust going into the strike.

The two opponents regarded each other across the barren field of what used to be the Imperial Palace, locked in a battle of wills, either trying to will the other into giving up his defensive advantage in an ill-advised attack. At least that was what Shinji was doing, but considering that his enemy hadn't moved an inch - tentacle waving excepted - it was probable that it was waiting as well.

Shinji, for his part, was more than unwilling to make the first strike. Normally, Imperial Navy standard doctrine emphasized getting the first strike in - or as one teacher back at the academy had put it: 'Hit them first, hit them hard, keep on hitting them until they surrender or die'. That, of course, was the ideal, assuming that one could catch the enemy unprepared and achieve surprise, allowing one to dictate the terms of the battle by forcing the enemy to react. Charging into a prepared enemy, however, was a good way to end up as yet another example for aspiring navy officers to learn how not to do it.

Unfortunately, the enemy did not seem much inclined to do him the favor, and appeared content to just stare at the Evangelion. This made Shinji's tactical position even worse. Not only did he not know what his opponent was capable of, because it had refused to show any of its abilities on the rush to the palace. No, he also had to assume that waiting it out was perfectly fine with whatever it had planned for the attack. Apparently, it could afford to wait, which meant the Shinji could not.

Fortunately, he did not have to resort to hand to hand combat just yet. He made a step back, bringing his Evangelion around so that they were front to front, and calmly squeezed the right thumb button. The machine guns built into the shoulders opened up, sending a hail of bullets against the enemy. He noticed, with some satisfaction, that all of them hit the enemy, who was quickly disappearing in a cloud of dust from bullets shattering from the impact against the enemy's armor. But then again, he reasoned, it would be hard to miss a target even larger than an Evangelion at a distance of perhaps 50 meters.

He let off the button to allow the guns to cool and to observe the effects. Suddenly a glowing tentacle lashed out from the dust, swinging in a wide arc, searching for the offending Evangelion. Shinji wisely decided to take another few steps back to stay out of the enemy's reach. He moved the Evangelion to the left of the slowly settling dust cloud, which would allow him to attack from what he hoped would be an unexpected position once he could see his opponent again. Given enough time, he might even be able to get around his enemy and hit it from behind.

One might think it rather silly to try and sneak around with a metallic monstrum some 30 meters high and weighing several dozen metric tons, but Shinji expected his opponent to be shaken from the attack, blinded by the dust and therefore, at least temporarily, vulnerable to attack. Besides, it might not have ears to hear the noise of a machine the size of a large building moving around. It certainly didn't have legs to feel the ground shake.

When he reached the position he had chosen for is next attack, a brilliant idea came to him. Turning his front towards the silhouette of the monster, barely visible against the sun shining through the dust, he fired the machine guns again. This would create more dust, allowing him to finish his flanking maneuver and attack from behind.

It was, in the effect, a fundamentally flawed idea. A moment after Shinji had pushed the button and the first bullets hit, another glowing tentacle whipped out of the dust, extending far beyond the range he had expected, and buried itself into the Evangelion's right shoulder. It rammed itself deeper into the machine, setting off the ammunition stored next to the guns in the process. Shinji could hear them fly around randomly inside the Evangelion's hull, until their energy was spent or they hit something. Fortunately for him, none had hit anything vital so far, like, for example, the pilot.

He tried to free the Evangelion by taking a few steps back, but the monster had no intention of giving up its hold on him just yet. It easily kept pace with Shinji's increasingly desperate attempts to shake it off. Now free of the dust, it apparently had no difficulties in seeing its enemy, and quickly wrapped the other tentacle around the Evangelion's right arm. The tentacle tightened, easily cutting through the weak armor of the arm, before destroying the main frame and the hydraulic systems that connected the arm to the Evangelion's torso. In a torrent of hydraulic fluid, the arm tore itself out of its joint, falling to the ground and taking the spear with it.

On the one hand, Shinji had just lost his main weapon and suffered serious damage to his fighting machine. Already the dial displaying hydraulic pressure was falling fast. Supposedly the production model would have a redundant system for just this case, but along with its gold-plated armor and aerial torpedoes, this was little comfort to Shinji. On the other hand, he was free of the monster and could launch a counter attack. Given his tactical situation, he wondered if he should retreat, but figured that the monster, being so much faster than him, would easily keep pace and exposing one's back to the enemy was never a good idea. One tended to get stabbed into it when doing so.

No, Shinji figured, this could really only end one way. Unless the monster decided to simply leave - it wasn't like he could really do anything to stop it from doing so - this fight would end in the death of at least one participant. And it would take all of his skill and luck to ensure it wasn't him. Either way, a look at the dial for the hydraulic pressure showed that this particular fight would be over in the next 5 minutes.

Before Shinji could come up with a plan of attack, his enemy had apparently decided to press its advantage for all it was worth. Shinji had just brought the Evangelion around to search for the spear - which he knew from experience could be used with only one hand - when his enemy darted forward and smashed into the war machine. The crash shoved the Evangelion back, and for a precarious moment the Evangelion hung in the balance. A step back stabilized it again, but the enemy rammed itself against it again, slowly driving it back.

Step by step, the Evangelion fell back before the advancing monster. Stumbling backwards, Shinji found himself cursing the constructor of the Evangelion once more, as he had apparently decided that the pilot did not need any view ports to the rear, forcing him to move blindly and hope that he didn't run into any of the larger ruins. Perhaps another thing to ensure that the pilot would advance rather than retreat in his machine. Stepping on one of the wooden building surrounding the Palace Grounds would do little to harm an Evangelion, but an unlucky step on a stone wall here could easily damage one of the feet. Or worse, he could fall into one of the dozens of pits that had been dug recently as part of the reconstruction effort.

As it turned out, he had overlooked another disadvantage of retreating in a machine that was trailing its own power cable. By necessity, walking backwards meant that the power cable was now running from the back of the machine, through the legs, to the front of the Evangelion, and then off into the distance. Inevitably, that meant that after yet another strike by the monster, Shinji managed to step on the power cable of the Evangelion while attempting to remain upright. Several tons of various metals, driven against the earth by hydraulic power, could only lead to one result, best represented by fact that the entire cockpit of the Evangelion went out from one second to the other. This logically meant that the Evangelion could no longer move.

This would have been the ideal situation for Shinji's enemy to move in and finish the job, but gravity was faster. Having lost power in the most critical moment, Shinji was stuck inside the cockpit and had to watch helplessly as his war machine slowly, but very surely, crashed to the ground in front of the monster. The impact threw up a cloud of dust around the fallen warrior, and the first deep breath Shinji took after having the wind knocked out of him by the fall was choking. He briefly considered his options. He could not escape, neither by himself - as he could not free himself from the control harness - nor with his Evangelion, as the enemy would easily overtake him. Surrender was not an option, if just for the simple reason that it could never be negotiated. Never mind the fact that he would also be the first officer of the Imperial Navy in its entire (admittedly rather short) history who surrendered to an enemy, and that was not how Shinji wanted to be remembered.

With those two options out of the way, the only thing left was to either somehow continue the fight, or to die. This simple revelation cleared up the further course of action rather quickly. He pushed the button for the emergency engine, and with a loud sputtering, it came to life, just in time for his enemy to appear in front of his cockpit, hovering above the crashed Evangelion, apparently looking for a sign of life. Seeing the left arm shift slightly as Shinji moved it out of the firing arc of the shoulder mounted guns, the monster immediately rammed its tentacles into the lower body of the Evangelion and started to dig around. Shinji had his doubts whether it knew what an internal combustion engine was, but could not deny that the beast seemed to instinctively know where to cause the most damage. His had opponent come closer, the opening that looked like its mouth now hanging directly above the open cockpit. The dozens of smaller claws around it were now scratching and digging at the armor of the helmet, leaving Shinji under no illusions what his fate would be if - or, judging by the fight so far, when - he failed.

This move, however, brought the glowing red orb in the center of monster finally within reach of Shinji's guns, and the fact that they were touching each other probably meant that its defensive shield was not working. With a savage grin, Shinji pressed down his right thumb to unleash a storm of bullets upon the unsuspecting creature. When no such storm was coming, he pressed down the button again, and then, with a feeling of growing horror, again, but the guns remained silent. Perhaps the crash had destroyed the controls, perhaps the dust had jammed them, perhaps they had run out of ammunition. All that mattered was that he was now effectively unarmed. A small part of his mind dryly noted that he had been unarmed several minutes ago, though the pun did little to lift his spirits.

Now running desperately low on options and time, Shinji used his remaining power reserves in an attempt to push the monster off of him. By now, any thought of tactics or strategy had gone out of the window, having been replaced by brute strength. Going by the sounds the left arm was making, the enemy was winning that contest as well. To make matters worse - and a small part of Shinji's mind once again noted that they were rapidly running out of ways to make the situation any worse - a wave of heat washed through the cockpit. A short look on the dial showing the temperature of the engine showed it well above where it should be, while the fuel gauge was running empty a lot faster that it ought to. Together with the smell of burning gasoline, this left only a single conclusion: the Evangelion wasn't just in a terrible tactical situation anymore, it was now, also, on fire. Apparently, a glowing tentacle had found one of the gasoline tanks and ignited it, drenching the inside of the fallen machine with happily burning fuel.

Thankfully for Shinji, the construction of the upper torso meant that the burning fluid couldn't spill into the cockpit, but the by now the fire hat set parts of the electric system aflame, which created a great deal of smoke to waft through the interior. With a curse Shinji realized that he couldn't even dump the burning fuel because the emergency fuel dump had been rerouted to the rear cockpit in Hyuga's silly upgrade. Thumb hovering over the button on the left handhold, Shinji did remember that this meant he had one last card to play. The fire was already damaging the hydraulics in the lower body and the electrical system. In a few moments it would no doubt set off the other gas tanks, and at that point he was as good as dead, either by the explosion or because the engine would fail, leaving him at the mercy of his enemy. If he didn't burn to death, stuck inside the control harness like he was.

Once more, Shinji willed the failing arm of the Evangelion against the enemy above him, smashing the empty fist against the red orb which he hoped had the same function as it did on the last monster he fought. Already he could feel and hear how the Evangelion was nearing the end of its strength. Moving the arm was becoming more and more difficult as the harness, designed to always ensure that the operator had the same posture as the Evangelion, restricted his movement to match it. With one mighty effort, he raised the arm once more, and to the cacophony of metal screaming under stress and his own scream of rage and horror, he pushed down the button. The last bit of hydraulic pressure in the system pushed forward the arm blade, a weapon of some 5 meters in length, slung underneath the left arm. It pierced straight through the red orb, unblocked by any shield or any armor, and for the first time since it had arrived, his enemy bled.

With a choke, the engine seized, and whatever strength the Evangelion had left was now spent. But in its dying moments, it had hurt the monster, and going by the veritable torrent of blood that was now spewing forth from the wound the last attack had created, it had to be serious. Howling and trashing, the enemy rose up into the air, hanging still for a moment, as if surprised that death was something that could really happen to it, before faltering and crashing back down to the ground. It missed the Evangelion by a small margin, but sprayed its blood all over it. The air was filled with the disgusting smell of burning meat and boiling blood as Shinji realized that, once again, he had succeeded at the last possible moment and had killed the enemy. As had been his duty. Which was not too bad a way to be remembered, all things considered.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_July 5, 1915, morning_

Watching a battle was always a strange experience for Gendo. His mind worked with variables and force levels, with time tables and logical reactions to a given situation. His was the world of radio messages saying that battle had been joined, followed eventually by the message claiming that the battle had been won or that the battle had been lost. In either of the last two cases, he could usually tell why. It was most unusual that he actually got to see what was usually hidden behind them. At such times, he found that he honestly preferred the messages.

Watching combat in a larger group was even more of a strange experience. His entire staff was with him on that hill, but the rapid advance of the Angel had made their contribution to the battle negligible. That meant that everybody without something better to do - and, given the situation, that had indeed been everyone - had watched the battle unfold on the Palace Grounds. The Temporary Combat Headquarters were excellent for this, allowing Gendo - and those with him - unrestricted view of the battleground.

Every pair of binoculars had been turned on the two giants as they faced off against each other, and the proceedings relayed in hushed tones to those that didn't have anything to make out the details with. The fighting, once it had been joined, threw up a lot of dust, but even so they could see that the Evangelion looked worse for wear every time it came into view. Then it had stumbled and dropped to the ground, among shouts of disbelief and horror from the spectators. When the Angel moved for the killing blow, Gendo noted several people turning away so that they didn't have to witness it. As if that would keep it from happening. He had only felt an odd calmness. He was watching the last moments of the human race, that much was certain, for with the Evangelion destroyed, there was now no hope of victory. It was a blessing, he figured, that in his position he would not have to live very long with his failure.

All the greater was the commotion when the Angel rose again, twisting in obvious pain. The sight of a great stream of blood spraying all across the area gave rise to a roar of triumph from the gathered officers. When the Angel collapsed upon itself, all military decorum or discipline was forgotten. A loud cheer went up, several officers congratulated each other, and even Gendo could not suppress a genuine smile. He nodded to Fuyutsuki, who went to organize the recovery crews, and left the hill under frenetic shouts of "Banzai!".

Palace Grounds  
Tokyo  
July 5, 1915, morning

Consciousness came with a shock and the realization that he had been out for some time. Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Shinji tried to remember what had happened in the last few minutes and came up empty. The last thing he did remembered was being stuck in the control harness inside the burning Evangelion, caught in a hell of smoke and heat. His eyes and lungs were burning, but through the tears he could see the blurry image of the Evangelions cockpit. He tried to move his hand to wipe his eyes, but found it unable to move. He was still in the harness.

It was almost completely silent inside the Evangelion, the only being the ticking of cooling metal. Normally, there was a multitude of sounds that the machine made when moving, of metal grinding against metal and of hydraulics whining, but no longer. Everything was quiet. Given the stress and the horror of the battle, the sheer intensity of hand to hand combat with a foe of equal size, the absolute silence was somewhat unsettling. Hanging inside the cockpit, Shinji wondered for a moment if the Navy had forgotten about him or given him up for dead. It was, of course, a silly question. Sooner or later someone would come to check if the Evangelion was recoverable, and in the process find him. It was just a question of time. All he had to do was wait.

He did not have to wait long, as it turned out. Within moments of awakening, he heard the first voices outside. He wondered exactly how long he had been out, it had felt like it had been only a few minutes, but if the recovery crews were here already, it had to have been closer to an hour. He frowned. Going by the voices he heard, there were only two people outside, and considering the volume, they were...arguing. That was certainly unusual for a recovery crew, both in size and in behavior. Then he could hear footsteps on the metal as one of them climbed up. When a face appeared in front of the cockpit, things got a lot clearer.

It was Kensuke Aida that was looking down on him, apparently completely delighted with being here and having the opportunity to see the inside of an Evangelion. A shout came from below, causing him to turn.

"Yep, he's still alive.", he shouted back down, causing some grumbling from the other guy, presumably Suzuhara. "Now get up here and help me get him out."

_Road to the Imperial Palace_  
_Tokyo_  
_July 5, 1915, late morning_

There was a marked difference in the city, between this attack and the last. The first time, there had been widespread devastation and refugees picking amongst the debris for something that once belonged to them. Even now, the rebuilding had only just begun. When the fourth Angel appeared, people had feared for the worst, had feared that what little they had managed to recover would be taken away from them again. But, miraculously, the Angel had decided to spare them.

This was an important piece of information to Gendo. Angels had no such thing as a unified tactical doctrine. Perhaps they were in the process of developing it, if they were organized at all, perhaps they had scrapped it after it had failed the last time. What mattered was that they were essentially unpredictable. One might assume that this was bad news for someone tasked with finding a strategy to defeat them, but knowing that one's enemy was not fighting by a single set of rules meant that it was useless to try and see a pattern when there was none to be found. He could not predict the next move, therefore, he could only make sure his soldiers were prepared, and hope that was enough. Except for one thing, of course. The Angels wanted to have the Palace Grounds. And that meant he would do everything he could to make sure they wouldn't get it.

As he made up his way towards the battlefield, Gendo could not help but feel a sense of dread as he approached it. Certainly, they had won. It was, in any way, preferable to the alternative, especially considering how close they came to it. But still, he feared what he would see once he would get a good look on the Evangelion and the Angel. From what he had witnessed from his observation post, the Evangelion had suffered greatly. If it was irrecoverable, they would be in dire straits if - or rather, when - the next Angel arrived. He knew that the Germans had a few finished Evangelions that could fight with the Lance. If they were willing to send them half way around the globe was more questionable. Then again, there were ways to answer those questions, which, incidentally, were also ways that would answer quite a few questions more.

He had reached what had once been the Palace gate, and what was now just a burnt out archway, and could take a good look at the battlefield. It was a scene of complete carnage. Bits and pieces of the Evangelion were littering the ground. The lance, still grasped by the right arm of the Evangelion, was sticking in the ground where the arm had been ripped off. In the numerous depressions of the area, be it shell craters from the first attack, the footsteps of the giants that had fought here or the excavation sites he had ordered to be dug, the dark hydraulic fluid and the bright red blood of the Angel had formed puddles and ponds.

Gendo had his doubts whether His Majesty would find them quite as entertaining as the ones that used to be here. Kois, for example, would have a very hard time in them.

He marched across the field, stepping around the numerous pieces of broken armor that littered the area. It certainly gave a good show of the many, many small parts that allowed an Evangelion to move and fight. As his wife had once put it, an Evangelion consisted of around fifty thousand critical parts. All of which could break, and all of which would break. Usually at the worst possible time. From an engineering point of view, they were miracles. From the point of view of a supply officer, they were a curse.

Finally, he came to the area where the two enemies had fallen. The Evangelion was still in one piece, not broken into several, though the lower half was blackened and still smoking. It would need a good long time to repair, but it looked salvageable. The maintenance crew, however, would be cursing his son for the next couple of months. As for the pilot, he was standing next to his wrecked machine, apparently unhurt, and was describing something or other to two other Ensigns. Gendo felt a highly unprofessional sense of relief over that fact. While an officer should not spend the lives of his men easily, too much of a relation to any one of them could prevent him from spending them at all, and sometimes, that was simply what was required to achieve victory. Everyone in the Navy was replaceable, including his son. Including himself. Considering the stakes, it would not do to hesitate in doing what needed to be done, just because they were related.

He left the Evangelion where it was and went to the fallen Angel. It had rolled to the side in its death throes and had wrapped its tentacles around itself, much like a human hugging himself to ease the pain. Looking at it, it seemed completely unhurt. There was only a tiny - compared to the size of the Angel - injury in the red orb that had been just below the creature's mouth. Apparently, that had been enough to kill it. Another useful information. He would have to make sure Captain Ryouji noticed it as well and drilled Shinji - the pilot, accordingly.

With that, he left the site of the carnage to send a few dispatches to people around the globe, who were waiting quite anxiously for them.

**A/N: **So ends the second chapter of NGE: A Century Apart. Thank you for all your kind comments on the first chapter. I have to admit that it get a lot more attention and feedback than I had anticipated, and I hope this chapter has fulfilled the high expectations that have been set into it - though if you have read up to this point, it probably has. Still, any comments, criticism or praise is very much welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

_Neuer Reichstag_  
_Munich, Germany_  
_ July 6, 1915, morning_

It was a grand show, no doubt about it. Politics in motion had always been a fascination to Lorenz Kiel, and now that he was in position to see them into motion, he indulged himself as often as he could. Especially when he had, in fact, set them in motion in the first place. The entire lower house of the German parliament was assembled to hear the speech of Chancellor von Hertling regarding the military mission to Japan. It had not been easy to convince the chancellor to approve it - after all, the balance of power in Europe was very delicate, and both sides tried to make sure that it was maintained, at least for now. No one wanted to go back to the chaos of the first decade, when the political structure that had held for centuries - in some areas, for millenia - had crumbled and fallen. From the 5 great European powers that had existed in 1899, only 3 still existed in 1910. For a continent that, after the devastation that Napoleon had wrought upon its political landscape, had made the balance of powers its safety net, this led to sweeping changes, the likes unseen before and - hopefully - after.

When the Chancellor stepped up to the podium to speak, Lorenz found himself leaning forward, so as not to miss a single word. Von Hertling nodded to the President of the parliament, and cleared his throat before addressing the assembled delegates.

"Gentlemen, I need not tell you the situation Germany finds herself in. We are pressed on two sides by our enemies, yet our only ally lies on the other end of the globe. While it is true that, fortunately, geography allows us to separate our opponents from one another, no one can deny that they are a lot closer to each other then we are to our ally in the pacific. Already, the French press is speculating whether they would have any impact on a war in Europe. Gentlemen, the German government has therefore decided to make a statement regarding the status of our alliance."

"Ah," said the man who had taken his seat right next to Lorenz on the balcony overlooking the chamber, "what he meant to say was 'I needn't tell you, but I shall do so anyway, because I like the sound of my own voice.' Politicians." He chuckled at his statement. Lorenz sent him a sharp look to shut him up. He reacted with a wave that was supposed to indicate he would refrain from commenting any further, at least for now.

He paused, to allow for the - very polite - applause to die down. The alliance with Japan was not a very popular one. The conservatives were deeply skeptic of the Asian upstarts, and would much rather have an alliance with Russia, feeling that the two great monarchies of Europe should stand together against the French Republic. The socialist left, on the other hand, preferred France for the very reason that it was a republic, and that it wasn't Russia. The liberals in the center of the spectrum weren't exactly enthusiastic about an alliance with Japan either, though a great number of them profited nicely from selling raw materials and technology to the Japanese. However, the conservatives also were traditionally wary of the Russian bear, or, as one of them had put it recently: 'One never knows when the Russians will come to your aid; even worse, one never knows when they will leave again'. The socialists, of course, had the problem that they preferred an alliance with the French. As a result - since Germany had desperately sought for another partner, after Austria-Hungary had disintegrated following Second Impact, and the Americans weren't interested in European politics - Japan had been the only remaining option. A fortunate coincidence that the balance of power in Asia had also shifted dramatically in favor of the Japanese, with the disintegration of the British Empire following the death of much of the Royal Family in the great flood that drowned the British Isles. Suddenly in a position where there was no effective check on their expansion except for Russia - which had been busy with internal unrest, the Japanese grabbed what they could, and were suddenly one of the most sought after partners for any of the great powers. Germany had just been slightly faster and been able to promise better conditions - since Russia was not keen on any further Japanese expansion into what they considered their sphere and the French, in a sudden influx of humanitarianism, demanded that Japan reform its political system to incorporate such silly things as basic human rights.

"As you all know, Japan has suffered two devastating attacks by unknown forces in the last few weeks. While the Imperial Army and Navy have fought with great courage and skill, their loses have been great. Japan's only operative Evangelion, which has proven vital in the defeat of these attacks, has suffered severe damage. The Imperial ambassador to Germany has therefore asked His Majesty if it would be possible that Germany sent one of its Evangelions to Japan. The Kaiser has not only approved this request, but ordered that a significant amount of our High Seas Fleet should accompany it to Japan. With this operation, we will show that our two countries stand together in the face of any threat to either of them, no matter where it comes from! More than that, it will also show that our armed forces are capable of supporting one another, sending the clear signal to Paris and Moscow: The German-Japanese Alliance stands as strong as ever!"

There was now a bit more of enthusiastic applause. The man next to Lorenz chuckled again, and leaned towards him, whispering - quite unnecessary in the applause - "That says nothing at all. After all, it never stood very strong in the first place. He has a way with words, I will give him that."  
He rose, and Lorenz followed suit, leading them both off the balcony and out of the building. Lorenz would have preferred to hear the speeches of the various party members, but this business had priority. Besides, he already knew what would be said. The conservatives would support it, the socialists would criticize it on principle (since the conservatives had already endorsed it), and the liberals would wonder how much all of it would cost. The only reason to bother with this was really the fact that the Reichstag passed the budget, and there would be a need to increase funds to pay for the mission to Japan. Therefore, the constitution demanded that the Reichstag be informed of it and be given a chance to debate it. It was not like they could actually order the government to withdraw the mission, but they could refuse the additional funding, meaning that funds would have to be shifted from other military projects - such as the construction of new ships and Evangelions - to pay for it. Still, it made for a great show.

They walked a brisk pace until they had reached a nearby park, where his companion slowed down. Walking like two business partners - which, after a sense, they were - it was unlikely that anyone would pay attention to their conversation.

"The fourth has fallen.", said the man, as if he was breaking important news. Lorenz, however, had received exactly the same message the other one had. Perhaps, he mused, he had stated it because it needed to be said. He found himself smiling slightly. Yes, there was a place for ritual speeches and showmanship in politics, both the official and the secret kind.

"Ikari has done well.", he replied, "We made the right decision in choosing him to head the operation in Japan." Looking over to his partner, Lorenz noticed the deep frown on his face.

"I am wondering," he said with the voice of a man who actually did wonder, "why he has accepted it. Or rather, how we can be sure that he stays with the scenario. I wonder why the man who is the most important for the scenario's success is not one of us."

Lorenz caught the veiled question about his decisions quite easily. The inner circle - the 'us' he had referred to - was in a constant, if well hidden, struggle over power and influence. That was somewhat amusing, because in a few months, none of it would matter. But then again, they had thought the same thing when they had convinced the Japanese government to mount an expedition to Antarctica. And everyone knew how that turned out.

"He is a soldier, and as such he will do his duty. For now, his duty and our interest run in the same direction. In the meantime, we will show him a way to get what he wants most - his wife." he said, trying to not to sound too annoyed, "After all, every man works the same way - you control what he knows, and you control how he acts." It did, of course, require that one knew how someone would react to a certain piece of information, but Lorenz was certain he had Gendo Ikari figured out.

"I was not aware we had her. Last I heard, she was still in Japan.", his companion said, wary about the trap he might walk into.

Lorenz shock his head in an unconcerned gesture, "Oh, not his actual wife. I mean his first one, the one who died years ago. Difficult birth, I am told. As I understand it, he loved her very much. And when the time comes, we will give him a way to get her back."

In a manner of speaking, of course.

_Neuer Reichstag_  
_Munich_  
_July 6, 1915, morning_

It was a grand show, no doubt about it. The chancellor had decided that the parliamentarians should be able to take a look at the two people that would lead the mission to Japan - unofficially, of course, since actual command would be given to an Admiral of some sort. But there could be no doubt that the deployment of an Evangelion was the key point of the entire exercise. Get a ground combat unit to Japan and operate it there for a prolonged period of time in cooperation with the Japanese, thereby showing the world that the same could be done in reverse as well. Not that Germany needed help against the French. Or the Russians. Or both, really.

The deployment of her Evangelion, to be precise. Built by the Zeppelinwerke in Friedrichshafen, it was a marvel of German engineering. 28 meters at the shoulder, capable of moving at a pace of 35 kilometers an hour and crossing 120 kilometers with drop tanks at that speed. Armored to withstand hits by 4 cm naval guns, armed with no less than 8 machine guns, dual wire throwers to use against enemy Evangelions and the ability to handle a wide variety of hand held weapons. Designed to be air-transportable by Zeppelin and capable of amphibious operations by walking on the sea ground, it could go anywhere she wanted it to, and defeat anyone one who tried to stop her.

In Asuka Langley von Zeppelin's humble opinion, it was the best damn war machine in the history of mankind, and the mere existence of the Zeppelin Eva II was the reason why half the French general staff was not sleeping very well at all. On maneuvers, its appearance had sent a opposing battalion scrambling for cover, had shored up a critical flank and saved the day. It was only fitting that the best Evangelion in German service would be piloted by the best that Germany had to offer, and that they would now go to Japan to show them how real soldiers dealt with things.

Sadly, reports as to the precise nature of the enemy were sparse, but going from what she had read in the newspapers, the Japanese Evangelion had opted for a stand up fight, defeating its opponent by brute strength. Which was, of course, exactly the wrong way to go about things. It was just as well that someone like her, with experience in both design and deployment of Evangelions, would be sent over to help the Japanese get their footing. And who knew, maybe she could also convince them to buy some more equipment from her uncle, the Count von Zeppelin. There was no need to redesign the wheel, especially if her family had already developed a perfectly fine working one and was willing to sell it for a very reasonable price.

The problem was, of course, getting there.

"I still don't get why we have to use ships. A Zeppelin can have us in Japan in a week. This way, even if we break through the Straights of Suez, we will need at least six.", Asuka said, a flash of anger on her face.

Asuka's copilot, standing next to her and observing the crowd of politicians discussing things, shrugged his shoulders.

"You know how it is. The Russians won't let us use their airspace, and going around it means resupplying in India. Do you really want to be at the mercy of some Indian warlord, who would love to have an Evangelion in his army, and", he added with a slight smirk, "someone like you in his harem?"

"I should love to see him try.", she answered, smug smile back in full strength. She quickly switched it to the smile she used in polite company and directed it at the old, gray-haired man walking over to them.

"That is Karl von Gamp-Massaunen, leader of the conservatives", her companion told her, and Asuka remembered seeing the man - or someone looking somewhat like him - visiting her uncle. The old Count von Zeppelin was an oddity among the normally conservative nobility. He had a keen interest in technology and led a successful company producing the airships that bore his name, as well as having won the contract to produce the first standard-issue German Evangelions. As such, he was politically rather liberal, which did not stop the various parties to try and get into his good graces in hopes of financial support. Especially the conservative wing, having lost many of its strongest supporters when Second Impact flooded the rural areas in northern Germany, was reaching out to anyone who seemed to even remotely be willing to support their policies.

If Asuka had had less confidence in her skills, she might have wondered if her appointment to the mission was also part of that.

Von Gamp-Massaunen was not smiling, but Asuka figured that this was expected of him, to show his focus on his duty as leader of a political party. Politics, she had learned from reading the news, was not something for the overly cheerful or the naive. Neither was warfare, she concluded, and settled for a more somber and focused look. After all, it wouldn't do to seem too unconcerned about their mission, lest they decided to send someone else after all.

The politician was intercepted by another member of the parliament. He nodded in their direction, to indicate that he would be over in a moment, while the other man seemed to urgently discuss things with him.

"Besides," Asuka said, picking up the conversation thread dropped a few moments ago, "they are British. Very proper and all that, I doubt that they have harems. And if they do," she added, with a smirk of her own and a half-lidded look that she had practiced intensively before a mirror, "if they do, you'll just have to mount a particularly daring rescue mission. Make sure you write down what you do so it will be easier to sell it to the newspapers."

"Yes, milady. It will involve at least one balloon, a backstabbing spy of dubious intent, two stolen automobiles and a mountain goat. Perhaps a penguin, too, for the comedy relief.", her copilot answered. Things like these were the reason why she liked Manfred so much - he was, indeed, the only copilot that had lasted more than two weeks with her - he took the things she said and ran with them. It made the more boring parts of their job a great deal more enjoyable. And who knew what could happen in a far away country, with two people who could only really trust each other. Love could, perhaps, bloom on the battlefield. And an age difference of eight years was really nothing in noble families.

Asuka leaned over slightly towards him, whispering conspiratorially, "I will leave the details up to you." All alone with her for months at a time. He would never know what hit him.

Meanwhile, von Gamp-Massaunen had finished his conversation, having sent the reason for his delay away looking rather unhappy. As he reached them, he nodded once in Asuka's direction, the shook hands with her companion.

"I have to admit," he said to him, "that I was rather surprised to see that you had been chosen to go to Japan with the Evangelion. I had thought you had gone to the aerial forces."

Manfred gave a polite smile, and said "You must have mistaken me with my younger brother Lothar. He has, indeed, gone to fly a fighter plane. Mother is quite upset - at least the machine I am in is still on solid ground!"

They both laughed at this, looking, for all intends and purposes, like two old friends. And making Asuka feel just a little bit redundant. But she knew no one else here, and it would not do to just wander off. After all, she was the expert on Evangelions, Manfred was still learning. He would be completely lost if he was asked any sort of technical questions on it, like if the electrical system of the Eva II would work with the Japanese equipment. And so she stayed.

"I had considered going as well, but they are transferring the Second Squadron of the Guards Hussars to Evangelions, not to fighter planes.", Manfred said, shrugging his shoulders, "And really, I like it there, so I decided to stay. It has been a very interesting experience so far. And I assume I was selected for the mission to Japan because of Second Lieutenant von Zeppelin here, not because of my own skills."

Asuka stood up a little straighter at this, her smirk threatening to creep back to the surface. With some difficulty she managed to push it back down and keep her face suitably unimpressed. Of course he was selected because of her. How lucky for him that he should have been made her copilot. It was her Evangelion, after all.

"Is that so?", von Gamp-Massaunen asked, somewhat dubiously. He eyed Asuka again with a face of renewed interest. "It was my understanding that she was just an observer, and only because someone thought it a good idea that the name von Zeppelin was somewhere on the list of people.", he said at last, still in the voice of someone who was quite puzzled by what he had just been told, as if it was in complete contradiction of established science.

Before Asuka could forget herself and do something decidedly unlike her - such as slapping him and demanding a duel to restore her honor - Manfred stepped in once more, literally in fact, as he placed himself between Asuka and the older man. "Now, now, sir, you were obviously misinformed. The Lieutenant has finished the war academy with distinction. First woman to do so, if I remember right."

"Second." Asuka grumbled. There had been another girl, one year ahead of her, who was now assigned to the General staff, planing the next wars that Germany might find herself in. Asuka herself could have gone the same way, but she always had rather mediocre marks in strategy and logistics, with far better ones in tactics. During war games, the speed with which she had directed her assigned units had literally sent the other participants - friendly and enemy alike - reeling with the blows. So she had been assigned to the Guards Hussars to help them in their transition to the new weapon system. Not, of course, because she liked horses, or because people believed that the rather unconventional (the polite description; brash, foolhardy, dashing and undisciplined were the more common ones) Hussars were the only unit in the German army that could reasonably be expected to be able to deal with her temper. "But I finished higher than the first.", she added, leaving out the fact that she had also beaten most of the men in her class.

"And she has also worked in the development of Evangelions before. As I understand it, part of the control system was built by her. So you see, Sir, she is as capable as any other to do the job."

In Asuka's opinion, she was in fact more capable than any other, but she held her peace. The old fart would have to eat his hat - and his words - when they returned victorious. No need to make a scene just now, not when Manfred had already come to the rescue.

"Just remember," von Gaamp-Massaunen said, "you represent all of us over there. The whole world will have its eyes on this mission. Don't treat it like a holiday. If you disgrace us in any way -" he stared down at Asuka, who tried to remain as nonchalant as possible, "- it would be better if you did not return."

He looked back at Manfred, nodded, and left without another word.

_Imperial Palace_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 6, 1915, midday_

There was something positively comedic about it, Shinji decided. Or perhaps something tragic, but somehow, he could not help but find it rather amusing. The thought that feeling amusement at the misfortune - indeed, the despair - of other people would be something that would fit in well with Captain Ryouji did little to lessen it. It was just such a spectacle, instead of quiet suffering. Lieutenant Hyuga was walking up and down the fallen form of the Evangelion, alternating between peering trough the numerous holes in the armor, holding his head in despair and shaking his fist in Shinji's general direction.

Finally he jumped down from the carcass and strolled over to where Shinji was watching, shaking his head all the way.

"I don't understand how you managed to do that," he said when he arrived, "by rights, the Evangelion should have been unable to function long before you could do so much damage to it. Unbelievable."

He made a gesture encompassing the fallen Evangelion and the surrounding field of debris.

"I mean just look at it. The Evangelion shouldn't even work without half the stuff lying around here."

"So much the better that it did, then.", Shinji said in an unconcerned voice. "Or else we wouldn't be standing here. I wouldn't be standing here, that is."

"It was a close call," the Lieutenant agreed, "if the blood of that monster hadn't put out the flames...of course, you could have avoided that particular problem if you still had the ability to dump your fuel tanks."

"Yes," Shinji said, "but if you hadn't installed that new weapon, I never could have killed that thing, either. I lost the spear, and machine guns were jammed."

"Lance.", Hyuga interjected.

Shinji looked at him in confusion.

"I heard The Admiral call it a lance when we were working with it."

"There is a difference between those two?"

"Apparently there is.", Hyuga answered with a chuckle, "Anyway, the wind has died down, so we should be able to move it back to the base today. I will give you a good estimate how long the repairs will take when I had a chance to take a good look at the inside of it. But I would guess at least a month, going by the damage that is visible just from the outside."

He shook his head again.

"You really did a number on it."

A shadow fell over them. Looking up they saw the Zeppelin Soryu, one of the heavy carrier Zeppelins which the Navy operated, and which had been hastily refitted to pick up the Evangelion. The machine was obviously unable to walk back to base, and disassembling it on the spot for later repairs would take far too long, especially since it would involve cutting apart the torso. It wasn't so much the weight that prevented transport by other means but the dimensions, since the Evangelion simply would not fit through the streets lying down.

The problem with the whole thing was that it would take a good while to properly fasten the Evangelion to the Zeppelin, and any wind would make the maneuver that much more difficult, since the Zeppelin would have to hold position for that time. But today promised to be calm, and so the first attempt to salvage the broken machine was started.

Slowly, the huge flying cigar drifted into position, its ground crew dragging it the last few meters, until it was position right above the Evangelion. Huge steel cables were dropped from the Soryu, fastened to other cables already slung underneath the Evangelion, and then winched up until the fallen giant rose, bit by bit, from its final resting place. Looking at it from his observation point, Shinji felt reminded of a picture he had once seen in a book about other cultures' myths, in which a winged woman lifted a fallen warrior - a viking - from the place where he had fallen in battle, to lead him to the afterlife.

But then again, he figured, these Valkyries probably wouldn't make the trip all the way from Scandinavia to Japan to pick up something that had not yet fought its last battle, and the whole thing seemed rather silly in retrospect.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Junior officer housing area_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 6, 1915, evening_

After a long day on duty - which for Shinji consisted of writing a detailed report of the battle, without using the words 'somehow' and 'I have no idea how that happened' - all he wanted to do was get to his room, hand the draft to Aida for proofreading (thus earning his eternal gratitude, and more importantly, his temporal silence) and spend the rest of the evening in his bed until lights out. It was therefore with a slight frown that he saw Captain Ryouji standing next to the entrance of the barracks.

Seeing Shinji approach, he stepped in front of the doors, thus making it rather clear that they had business with each other. Like any officer in this situation, Shinji briefly cataloged his sins (not by seriousness but by likelihood of them being known) and came up pretty much empty. Unless one wanted to count the damage he had caused to the Evangelion, and the SNLF Captain did not seem like the person to worry to much about such things. Knowing him, bringing back the machine without a scratch would probably get Shinji chewed out for not being aggressive enough.

Coming to a stop in front of his superior, Shinji folded his hands behind his back and looked at him with the air of quiet curiosity - and innocence, lest the good Captain grew suspicious. The question was not so much whether Shinji had done anything wrong but whether one action or another would be declared wrong - this had been one of the favorite games of the instructors at the Academy. At times, what was the right thing one day ended up being completely wrong the next, and vice versa. It was just a fact of life in the Imperial Navy. And considering that Captain Ryouji was not the type to make courtesy calls, it had to be something a bit more serious.

Back at the Academy, he would have wondered if asking what the matter was would get him yelled at, or if remaining silent would be more likely to lead to this outcome (it was a trick question, as both were equally likely to be taken the wrong way), but he assumed that the Captain would not want to play games with him just now.

"Ah, Ikari, I was wondering where you might be. I was almost afraid you had gone out on leave."

"It's Tuesday, Sir.", Shinji said, after looking confused for a moment. He left the 'as you well know' unsaid. "It is difficult to get a pass for it."

"Oh. I guess that's right.", Ryouji said, and Shinji got the distinct impression that the Captain - probably in some proud SNLF tradition - had never really bothered with such things like weekend passes. Which perhaps served to explain why he ended up with the First Home Defense Fleet.

"Well," Ryouji went on, "it does not matter. So, Ensign, any plans for the evening? Any letter of female admirers to answer?"

"No", said Shinji, but before he could elaborate on his plans - which mostly involved him and his bed, with a distinct lack of admirers of either sex - or on the existence of any admirers he might have, Ryouji had swept him around and was dragging him along towards the main gate.

"Excellent. You see, I thought we really should do something to celebrate your recent victory, so I decided to treat you to diner. What do you say to that."

Shinji knew an order when he heard one, and this was most definitely not formulated as a question.

"It would be an honor, sir."

"Excellent, excellent.", Ryouji said.

A few hundred meters before the main gate, Ryouji - having released Shinji in the meantime - turned to the right, towards the the housing area for married officers. Shinji wondered for a moment why he did that, since he never mentioned a wife, but decided the fact that he appeared every morning reasonably close on time for duty meant that there was someone making sure he did so. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would manage that when left completely to his own devices.

While the junior officers like Shinji had to share not only the room they slept in, but also the room they ate and washed in with others - there was only one mess hall in the entire junior officer building - married officers had their own house to live in, together with their spouse. Given how crowded the washing room could be in the morning, Shinji wondered if Suzuhara's proposal to his girlfriend might not also have had some more mundane reasons.

The house before which they were standing now was so typical for its purpose that Shinji would have recognized it as a Navy built home for the family of an officer even if he had not known where it stood. Like most buildings in the many naval bases that had been built after Second Impact to keep pace with the increase in size of the Imperial Navy, it was stretching the 'elegant' part of 'functional elegance' somewhat. It was a wooden building, designed to look somewhat traditional, which made it - and the houses for the other officers - stand out all the more when compared to the other base buildings. It was almost as if the Navy had tried to transplant a small Japanese village into one of its bases. With very little success.

Captain Ryouji stepped up to his house - or what Shinji assumed was his house - motioned Shinji to wait and opened the door. He received no answer when he called the traditional greeting, but that did not seem to worry him overly much. He went inside without giving any explanation about what he was looking for. It could not be his wife, since she would have answered, so Shinji assumed it would have to be something else. Perhaps his wallet. Shinji spent the time looking around the area, from one house to its identical neighbor, when a warbling sound cut through the pleasant emptiness in his head.

He looked around and found a bird standing in the doorway, looking up at him. It was a very strange animal, since its wings were rather small in comparison to the rest of its body, and did not look like they could lift it. Birds incapable of flight were nothing too unusual, but the strange coloring of its feathers - black, with a white belly - meant it could not even hide from predators. Nor did it look like it could outrun them, so Shinji began to wonder how it could even exist in this world. It looked like nothing he had ever seen before. Certainly it was not a bird that was native to Japan. Perhaps Ryouji had found it on his travels - 'join the SNLF, see the greatest beaches of the world, then charge across them under machine gun fire' was the joke common amongst the rank and file of the Navy - and taken it home as a pet.

The bird had regarded Shinji somewhat doubtfully, before focusing on his rank insignias. The bird went rigid and drew himself up, and if he had not known better, Shinji would have had to assume that the bird - for the lack of a better term - was coming to attention. When he raised one of his comically underdeveloped wings towards his head in salute, Shinji decided that the whole thing was entirely too silly to be true, and wondered if he should not excuse himself when Captain Ryouji came back. He was obviously seeing things. Perhaps it was the lack of decent sleep - Shinji had found that even hours after the battle, the sound of the smaller mouth claws of the monster scratching against the frontal armor was still too fresh to let him sleep. Or perhaps he had hit his head during the battle. If going to the hospital wing hadn't meant running into Ritsuko, he would have done it.

"Aren't you going to return the salute, Ensign?", the voice of Captain Ryouji said and ripped him back into reality.

A reality, it turned out, that still contained a silly looking bird saluting him with great decorum. Shinji, feeling remarkably stupid, raised his own hand in salute, which caused the bird to drop his, warble, and step out of the doorway. He gave way to Captain Ryouji, who, to Shinji's complete surprise, was not alone. Standing slightly behind the Captain was a woman that Shinji could only assume was his wife.

Upon seeing Shinji, she gave him a warm smile, but said nothing.

"Ensign Ikari, I present my wife Misato. Misato, this is the famous Ensign Ikari."

Mrs. Ryouji bowed deeply, and within a second, Shinji followed, since he had seen that her kimono was a bit loose around her neck, and her bowing would have given him some rather personal insights. Somehow, he had the feeling the Captain Ryouji would not necessarily appreciate that, or at least not as much as Shinji would have.

Had he not been so distracted, he might have tried to say something about being famous - he was not, and he felt that this was justly so, as he had done nothing that someone else could not also have done. Having rightened himself, he saw that Mrs. Ryouji was motioning for him to step inside, and was about to do so, when Captain Ryouji held him up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Misato, you must have misunderstood me. I didn't invite the Ensign to eat with us, I meant to invite him to eat out with us."

His wife, Shinji noticed, was frowning deeply at his, and seemed not at all convinced that this had been a misunderstanding.

"I know you worked hard on making dinner", Ryouji said, rubbing her shoulder, "but it won't be enough for us three, so we will just give it to Penpen and have a nice dinner in town."

His wife still seemed to be utterly unconvinced by his display. The bird - which Shinji assumed was named Penpen - looked positively appalled by these news. Given his lack of understanding of the behavior of birds, both in general and in particular, Shinji couldn't be sure of it, but the wide open beak and the wide eyes did give the distinct impression of sheer and utter terror.

Mrs. Ryouji's frown had by now evolved into a full strength glare, directed at her husband - much to Shinji's relief, as he would probably have broken and run under a look of such intensity, while his superior seemed used to it. It was perhaps the fact that they had been married for a while, or the fact that Ryouji was incapable of feeling fear (as it was said to be a requirement of all SNLF officers), that allowed him to withstand such an assault of feminine outrage displayed in the look his wife gave him.

Yet when Ryouji started down the stairs, she followed without comment. They left the bird behind, who, to Shinji's untrained eye, looked almost depressed now. Mrs. Ryouji seemed to have moved past her anger, and was walking a brisk pace with her husband, almost forcing Shinji to run to keep up with them. Shinji knew that if he lost them, he would not be able to find them again. Since he had been coped up in the base for most of his time in Tokyo, he had no idea about the layout of the local amusement district that had sprung up next to the base. Focused as he was on following his superior officer - who seemed to be led along by his wife, rather than the other way around - he found that he would even have a hard time finding his way back to base, never mind the fact that he would have to explain why he was without a pass. When he was with Captain Ryouji, he could at least claim that he was under orders.

There did not seem to be any discussion amongst the couple about which of the many establishments they should go to, which gave Shinji the impression that they seemed to take the option to eat out rather often. Often enough, anyway, to know the menu without checking and to know where it was acceptable to visit in uniform and polite company.

Eventually they stopped in front of one building and waited for Shinji to catch up with them. Together, they went inside. The air was heavy inside, and bore the smell of spices, cooking meat and alcohol, as well as other things that Shinji could not quite identify. They found a boot to sit, and the waitress seemed to know the Ryoujis well enough to know what they would order and therefore did did not bother with taking their orders.

Instead, she brought over a bottle of sake and three dishes, placing one in front of Shinji. With some concern he watched as Captain Ryouji filled first Shinji's, then his wife's and finally his own dish with the clear liquid. It looked much like water, but Shinji had his doubts that it would go down quite as easily.

He raised his dish in salute, waited for his wife and Shinji to follow suite and said "To an enemy who tried his very best to kill us all - and failed!", before downing the sake. Shinji, too, drank down his cup, but started to cough the moment the alcohol hit his throat. Feeling it burn all the way to his stomach, he wondered if it was supposed to feel like that, and if so, why people drank that stuff voluntarily. He felt a hand clap his back and blinked to clear his vision from the tears that had formed in his eyes.

"First time drinking sake, Ikari? My, back when I was your age, it was normal to have sake with every meal on board a ship.", Ryouji told him, while Shinji drew a few deep breaths in the hope that they would ease the burning in his throat.

He noticed that his sake dish had been refilled, and with a sense of deep dread he saw Captain Ryouji raise his own for yet another toast, this one for the Emperor. Shinji privately decided that His Majesty was probably least of the reasons why they were drinking sake, and probably more of an excuse, but as an officer of the Imperial Navy, could hardly refrain from joining in. Once more, he raised his drink and drank, finding the sensation not quite as awful the second time.

Once more, his dish was refilled, this time for a toast for his father. Once more, honor prevented him from declining. By now, Shinji was desperately hoping for the food to arrive to give him a reason to stop drinking. It was starting to get a little difficult to focus on the various things in the room, and he could feel his face heat up.

His ordeal was not over, as there was one toast after the other, from the Imperial Navy in general, to the First Home Defense Fleet, to Shinji himself - which, by the time it was made, seemed very funny to Shinji. There were more toasts after that, but they blurred somewhat together, though Shinji did get the impression that they toasted PenPen at least once.

Shinji suddenly noticed that they were outside, and judging by the full feeling in his stomach, they had eaten. Which was somewhat disturbing, since he couldn't really remember doing that. The Ryoujis seemed to have held up a little better than he had, and were now staggering back to the base together, Mrs. Ryouji still clutching a bottle of sake in her hand.

Shinji followed on unsteady legs, catching up to the pair after a few stumbling steps. He glanced down, wondering why the footing was so treacherous, but, of course, could make out nothing in the dark. Besides, it was still a bit difficult to really focus on anything. He fell in step with Captain Ryouji and his wife. Judging by the way they were walking, it wasn't quite clear who was holding up whom. For a moment, he imagined one of them stepping away, causing them both to fall down, which he considered the height of hilarity.

"Having fun, Ikari?" the voice of Captain Ryouji demanded. By the sound of it, it was the gravest of offenses to have any fun at this particular time, so Shinji reacted accordingly and wiped the grin off his face as best he could.

"Because it is a very serious job we have, you and I.", he continued, "one might even say it's...deadly serious." He started a roaring laugh, in which Shinji, after a moment of confusion, joined in.

They continued for a while, longer by far than the joke should have lasted, before Captain Ryouji got a hold of himself.

"It really is, isn't it?", he said, seeming suddenly many years older and a great deal more sober. He pointed across the bay to where the Haruna was still being repaired. "We are just like that battleship."

"Sir?", Shinji ventured, not being quite able to follow his superior's line of thought. He also decided not to point out that it wasn't a battleship, but a battle cruiser (a distinction which the crews of such ships took very seriously).

"Have you ever wondered, Ikari, what that ship exists? What its purpose is?", Captain Ryouji asked quietly.

"Well", Shinji began, painfully dragging back unwilling bits of knowledge from days spent in Basic Naval Strategy and Operations, "it is supposed to scout ahead of the main fleet to find the enemy, and..."

He stopped when he saw Ryouji raise a hand.

"That may well be its role, but it is not its purpose."

This statement was more than slightly confusing to Shinji, who was still wondering what he had actually eaten for dinner, and his expression of sheer incomprehension prompted Captain Ryouji to continue.

"You see, that ship cost more to build that you and I will probably ever earn, combined. Yet there is no return on that investment. This ship only sits in harbor until it either sinks in battle or is sold for scrap. It never generates any income, or provides any actual service. One could say it only exists to be destroyed, either violently in battle or slightly less violently on the scrap yard."

"But it protects Japan!", Shinji shouted, momentarily forgetting his company.

"In a way. But remember what I said, Ikari - we are just the same. They keep us around so we can fight and die in its defense. There is no other reason for it. You are not a soldier because there is glory to be had in battle. You are a soldier because the people need someone to do the dying, so they don't have to. Never forget that."

With those words, he turned back towards the base and staggered on, leaving Shinji to his thoughts. It was a disturbing thing to be told that one was, in effect, being paid to be cannon fodder. On the other hand, he was getting paid, at least. And it wasn't like he had learned anything else. He was, to put it simply, doomed to be a soldier. And going by the words of Captain Ryouji, he was not the only one. Then again, part of him argued, the job of an SNLF officer was somewhat different than the job of an actual Imperial Navy officer. An Evangelion pilot may well be a very dangerous job, but once he had his own ship - a cruiser or larger, preferably - his chances of survival went way up.

The thought of his superior officer made Shinji look around, realizing that the Captain had left him behind. Which was not a very good thing, considering that Shinji had no idea where he was, it was night and he had no leave. Thankfully, he spotted a signpost detailing the way to the base, and with a short run was able to find the couple again. After passing by the guard post at the entrance, Shinji bode them good night and went straight (for a given value of straight) to bed. Morning, a small part of his mind assured him, would be hell.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Executive Officer's Quarters_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 7, 1915, shortly after midnight_

Considering that there had been a major battle not 2 days ago, it had taken Gendo Ikari some effort to be able to actually sleep at home - as opposed to the cot he kept in his office. Having someone knock on the door shortly after midnight was therefore not unexpected, but certainly not appreciated. Grumbling slightly, he opened the door to find a runner with a message from the hospital staff waiting.

He took the note, sent the runner away and read the note, which informed him that Rei had, again, left the hospital. Again without being seen by the orderly right across the hall from her room, or the doctor in charge, who stationed right at the entrance of the building. The note claimed that they had found all windows closed, but Gendo had his doubts about that. It was July, it was hot, and it was night. Once out of the room, Rei would easily have found an open window to exit the building from. Which took away some of the mystery of her escape, no doubt.

Sitting down on the bed, he wondered if he should get out and look for her. It was dark out, he had barely any sleep in the last three days, and if she woke up alone again, Ritsuko would kill him. Figuratively, he hoped, but made a mental note to inquire if she had access to firearms. On the other hand, he was awake now, and now was as good a time as any to test out a theory he had. And if he turned out to be wrong, he could easily go back to bed and get another few hours of sleep before Rei would return some time tomorrow, as she always did. After all, knowing where Rei wasn't was, at the current situation, better than knowing nothing at all.

He dressed and left the house as quietly as he could. As he made his way through the base towards the main gate, he passed Captain Ryouji and his wife Misato - both, by the looks of it, completely smashed. The Captain remembered his manners well enough to attempt a sloppy salute, but Gendo waved him off, which got him a cheerful toast from Misato Ryouji with the bottle of sake she was holding.

He passed through the gate and into the dark city beyond. It did not take an effort for him to find his way through the streets. He knew them, after all. He had not always been a Rear Admiral, or, indeed, someone who the Imperial Navy would have considered officer material (excluding the SNLF, perhaps). There was a reason why he could move through these streets unarmed, in the middle of the night, while wearing rather expensive looking clothes. Granted, a good part of the reason was that most of the surrounding area lived off the base, and probably did not want to see a high ranking naval officer to come to harm. But the other part was that the low life that prowled these street at night knew, instinctively, when it was smarter to lay low, and when Gendo Ikari was walking through the streets, lying low was definitely the smarter choice. For Gendo Ikari had once been one of them. Before...well, before Yui, really. All he was, he was because of her.

The streets of Tokyo were almost deserted, and so he passed only a few people - all of whom gave him a wide berth. He made his way over to the ruins of the Imperial Palace, and as he passed what had once been the main gate, he thought his heart would burst through his throat. There she was again. Yui stood there, right there, bathed in the moonlight, the only human in sight. She had her back turned to him and was studying the Angel carcass intently, her Kimono slightly open at the neck, as if daring him to come and kiss that exposed bit of skin between cloth and hair...

He blinked, and in her place stood Rei. It was somewhat forgivable, really. Rei had always come after her mother, and in the dark, at the distance, it was an easy mistake to make. Wishful thinking probably had played its part in it as well. Rei, for her part, was still in her hospital garb, apparently completely unconcerned about moving across the city in such an ill-suited outfit.

Gendo stepped closer, but Rei, if she noticed, paid him no mind. Instead, she was still transfixed by the giant corpse that was lying on the ground, slowly growing more and more bloated with each passing hour of sunlight. Already, the foul stench of decaying flesh filled the air, but Rei seemed not bothered by it. Gendo, for his part, remained at a respectful distance. He cleared his throat, which caused Rei to look up slightly, as if she was forcing her mind back into the here and now, from wherever it had been just moments ago.

"Hello, Rei.", Gendo said after the girl had remained silent and had gone back to watching the corpse, head slightly cocked as if that would help her understand the enormity of what was before her. Or the enormity of the stink, perhaps.

Rei did not answer.

"Rei, what are you doing here?", he asked her after the silence had gone on too long.

"I see.", she answered, which did not help Gendo any.

"Rei, how did you get here? The people in the hospital are worrying about you.", he said. It was true, they were worrying about Rei - and him, probably, because they kept losing track of her.

"I was not, and then I was. Then, I was here."

Some might have called this mad rambling, but Gendo knew better. Knew Rei better, anyway. This was a girl who had, at the age of eight, written a philosophical piece in which - Gendo was not quite sure how - she had managed to make a logical proof that the color red was, in fact, ethically wrong. When he had told Fuyutsuki this, the old philosophy professor had been delighted, and, after reading the piece, had actually agreed with her. He had all but begged Gendo to let him teach Rei, and to everyone's surprise, that had actually worked. At least insofar as that Fuyutsuki never indicated that there was anything wrong with Rei beyond her blue hair.

"And now you are here, but why?"

Rei gave no answer, but stepped closer to the dead angel, and raised a hand to touch the red orb set into the angel's body.

"I do not know.", she said.

"Don't touch that, Rei, it is filthy and dangerous. Let's go home. I can take you to see it tomorrow, when its light, if you want to."

"But it calls to me." Rei said, still reaching for the orb.

"What do you mean, it calls to you? It has been dead for days now. It can not call to you, even if it would be able to speak our language, which it isn't."

"And yet it calls to me." With these words, she laid her hand on the red orb, caressing it slightly. Suddenly she gasped.

"Rei? Are you alright?", Gendo asked, feeling that it might be time to end this discussion and take her home - forcefully, if necessary. Rei was usually a very reasonable girl, but lately...well, he thought, it was not unusual at her age to get a bit of a stubborn streak. From what he had heard about Yui, she had been incredibly stubborn when she had been as old as Rei was now.

"I...am.", Rei whispered, then, louder, "I am.". Finally, she all but shouted "I. AM.", and the tone of her voice made clear that she wanted there to be no doubt that she was...whatever she was. It certainly wasn't alright.

Gendo took another step towards her, but before he could reach for the girl, he was flung back by a great force and landed on the ground. A violent howl filled the air, and suddenly there were bits and pieces of dead Angel flying everywhere. When he raised his head again, he could see Rei, still standing with her hand on the orb. Between them was a shimmering field of light in the air, made up by hexagons. Gendo picked himself up, and, wondering for a moment if it was truly wise to do so, reached out to the field. The moment his hand touched it, however, his arm was thrown back again, as if he had touched a live wire.

"Rei?", he called out, rubbing his hand to ease the pain he felt.

The girl looked at him, then cocked her head. The bubble in which she stood expanded, and Gendo had barely time to feel a spike of adrenalin as it approached, but instead of being tossed away again, it washed over him and stabilized well behind him. They stood in a dome of light, shielded against the world outside.

"Rei?", he tried again, and the girl looked at him with a look of slight confusion, as if wondering where he had come from all of a sudden. She took her hand off the orb, and the light around them died. Rei looked up at the sky, then at Gendo, blinked and said, "My feet are cold.".

She made a staggering step towards him, then another, before her legs gave out and she started to fall. Half a step away from Rei, Gendo managed to catch her as she fell, and kept her from hitting the ground. He cradled her in his arms and made to carry her back towards the base, since it was obvious that she could never walk there by herself.

She curled herself together in his arms and was asleep before they had even left the Palace Grounds.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Junior Officer Housing Area_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 7, 1915, morning_

Shinji did not normally hate being right. In fact, during his time at the Naval Academy, he had taken a significant amount of pride out of the fact that he was usually right on most things he had an opinion on or was asked about in class. Right now, though, he dearly wished he would have been wrong. Morning had come, and morning had, in fact, turned out to be a close resemblance of hell. An incredibly noisy hell, owing to the fact that the entire complement of junior officers at the First Home Defense Fleet's base was getting up and ready for morning exercises. Being, on average, maybe a year older than he was, this did not go down without a considerable amount of chatting.

And right now, Shinji was really starting to wonder if he should do something unreasonable with his sword. One way or the other, he could make the chatting...stop.

"Hey, Ikari!", the voice of Suzuhara said from the direction where the door was, "Are you coming or what? Morning PT starts in 5 minutes, they'll have your ass if you're late!"

Shinji wondered if that would be worse than what was happening now, and decided that it probably wouldn't. Couldn't, actually. And yet, years of routine forced his body to the vertical, and his eyes open.

The room was spinning. Shinji decided, quite reasonably in his opinion, that they couldn't really expect him to do PT in a world which was losing its most basic laws - what was up and what was down. Thus satisfied, he fell back on his bed, and found some shelter from the roar of the the toilet down the hall under his pillow. He was a war hero, and his father was commanding officer of this outfit. As far as he was concerned, it was high time for this to pay off.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Office of the Executive Officer_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 7, 1915, evening_

Gendo did not, generally, hate being right. He usually was, and he had come to accept that. Still, the revelations of last night brought with them some very unfortunate circumstances and gave rise to some rather disturbing theories. Rei had, in her own words, been called towards the Angel's corpse. Rei had somehow managed to access the beings ability to project an impenetrable shield. More than that, she had shown some ability to control it. Most disturbing indeed.

Rei had always been a quiet girl. Withdrawn, even. She had started to speak very late, which gave rise to some very nasty rumors about her, but Ritsuko - who was certainly not one to look at Rei with too much sympathy - could find nothing wrong with her. Sure, there were some oddities, most obvious amongst them the blue hair and red eyes, which Ritsuko had described as some form of albinism - except not, since albinism was the complete lack of pigments, and the fact that Rei had blue hair definitely meant she was not an albino in the traditional meaning of the word. Rei had an abnormal tolerance for pain, and her body healed injuries very quickly - it had been maybe 6 weeks since the accident with Unit 1, and Rei had been able to walk several miles last night without any problems. The doctors had decided to keep her under supervision for another day, but said they would release her after that, since she was fully healed now.

The girl he had dragged from the wreck of Unit 1 had looked like she would never walk again, and if she did, only after a long and painful recovery. Yet here she was.

First and foremost he had to wonder if he should tell the committee about this. Secondly, he would have to explain why the Angel's corpse had disappeared overnight. Staring into the empty space in his office, he reached a conclusion. War was all about finding the open flank, the new solution to the old problem, which would gain you the advantage over the enemy by virtue of being unexpected. His eyes narrowed. He had the enemies open flank before him, and now he would strike. The committee would learn of this, but perhaps he could inform them on his own terms.

He rang for an orderly, and ordered him to ensure that Lieutenant Hyuga would be in his office first thing tomorrow morning. Then he left to visit Rei in the hospital wing for a little chat.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Junior Officer Housing Area_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 12, 1915, evening_

The situation was difficult. The stakes were high. Everyone involved knew this, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. All eyes were on Shinji as he considered his options. Then, carefully, he slid a few coins to the center of the table, put a card on the discard pile and drew a new one. Looking at it, he found that the situation had bypassed the critical stage to move straight on to being catastrophic. Suzuhara, sitting next to him, studied his own cards for a moment.

"I'm all in", he said as he slid the rest of his coins - most of what he had won over the course of the evening - "I have a good feeling with this one."

One look to Aida told Shinji all he needed to know about the chances of Suzuhara being wrong about this. The bespectacled boy looked somewhat depressed as he studied his cards, but rallied admirably and tried to keep his face impassive.

"Well, let's see what you got", Suzuhara said and laid open his cards, which, like most of the evening, were a good deal better than what Shinji had to work with. Aida just shook his head and threw his cards on the table in a gesture of frustration, leading Suzuhara to snicker at it.

"You know how it goes guys, luck in the game, misfortune in love...but then again, I have you beat there, too."

If he hadn't been a good deal larger than Shinji, and if Shinji hadn't been in trouble already, he might have hit him for it. It would have wiped the smug grin off his face, certainly. For about a minute, until Shinji would be lying on the ground saying goodbye to most of his teeth.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you can earn it back if you help me out a little. See, I need to have this letter written and..."

"No Touji, we will not write your love letters to Hikari-chan for you. Besides, are you sure you'd want that?", Aida said, with the tone of someone who had fought that request more than once already.

"Dearest Hikari," Shinji said, trying to sound like someone reading a letter out loud, "my love for you burns like my feet do after a 30 kilometer march."

"Every day without you is like a day without beef", Aida continued in the same tone, "which is to say, like every day. You're not writing that down, are you?", he asked when he noticed Suzuhara making notes on a piece of paper, causing the other boy to hide it quickly.

"Well," Suzuhara began, "you could always pretend you are writing to that German girl."

This causes Aida to blush rather heavily, sputter, and then exclaim something about that being something completely different and nothing they would understand, anyway.

"German girl?", Shinji asked. Seeing that he had just lost the last of his pay for June and that it wasn't late enough to turn in for bed yet, conversation was the only thing they could reasonably do.

"You see, Ensign Aida of His Majesty's Imperial Navy here has a bit of a thing for exotic girls. You know, red hair and all that.", Suzuhara said, adding to the discomfort of their roommate as best he could.

"She's an Evangelion pilot," Aida blurted out as if that explained everything. Which, considering Aida's interests, it probably did.

"Anyway, he read about her a few months ago in a newspaper and, well, it really hit him hard. Couldn't stop talking about her for days. Asuka this, and von Zuerich that..."

"Her name is von Zeppelin. And have you ever heard yourself going on and on about Hikari-chan? Because you really should, sometimes."

"Zeppelin?", Shinji asked, "As in, that Zeppelin?", while he pointed to the ceiling to show which Zeppelin he meant. The name, somehow, sounded like it should ring a bell for him, beyond the obvious connection to the airships.

"Yes," Aida said, "she is related to THAT Zeppelin. And an Evangelion pilot. And about our age, too."

"So he wrote her a love letter.", Suzuhara interjected.

"It wasn't a love letter, it was a letter from an interested individual to a professional Evangelion pilot regarding the technology involved in controlling Evangelions. Nothing like that at all. Never got an answer, though."

"Oh," Shinji made, "that's right, she's part of that military mission the Germans are sending to Japan. You think she will bring her Evangelion?"

Upon hearing news that the girl would be coming to Japan; would probably, at some point, be staying at their base and might even bring a real Evangelion with her, Aida's face cycled between red, white, deathly white and back to normal before settling on red.  
Shinji meanwhile pondered what a German Evangelion might look like - it was unlikely that it would have the same similarity to a samurai in armor that Unit 1 had. Perhaps they had gone for something more of a knightly look.

"So", Aida said in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from redheaded Germans, "does he still have you fill out his paperwork?"

As it turned out, being a war hero (and the commander's son) meant exactly nothing. While Shinji hadn't been openly reprimanded for his absence that one morning, Captain Ryouji had, of course, been informed of it. Being Shinji's superior, it had fallen to him to assign the punishment, and the good Captain had decided that paperwork was a very suitable one. Especially considering that he - or in this case, Shinji - had to check and approve all requests for spare parts and other items, and there was currently a great deal of spare parts being requested to repair Unit 1. Shinji wondered sometimes if Ryouji had told the mechanics that it would be Shinji who had to fill out the proper forms (in triplicate), and that they had requested everything they could think of as a form of revenge for damaging the Evangelion. Because he really had his doubts if 857 separate hydraulic pressure harmonization valves were necessary, but on the other hand did not want to ask about it. Chances were good that this would mean a great deal more work.

"Until the end of July, yes."

"Well, it's better than being bored while they repair the Evangelion, right? At least you get to do something fun, I'm stuck with commanding the kitchen detail."

Aida and Suzuhara, Shinji had learned, were part of what the Imperial Navy called the active officer reserve - officers that were basically over strength and therefore without a proper posting, but kept on the payrolls in case there was a vacancy somewhere - usually when someone got shot. In the meantime, they were given some sort of work that a senior NCO could do as well, or often better than the officers. Suzuhara, of course, was mainly using his time to train for the SNLF officer candidate qualification test, while Aida spent his writing transfer request to whatever unit struck his fancy - during the time they had lived together, Shinji had seen him ask to be transfered to the submarines, the scout zeppelins, the carrier zeppelins, advanced engineer training and naval intelligence. And, of course, a good dozen times to the Evangelion in some form or other.

"Captain Ryouji doesn't mind being bored."

In fact, he seemed to actively enjoy giving all his work to Shinji and spent hours either sitting in his office, watching Shinji trying to make heads or tails from the supply forms, or being out 'inspecting', which seemed to involve a lot of chatting with various people.

"That's veterancy for you, I suppose. Probably had enough excitement to last him for a while.", Aida said, yawning.

Shinji wanted to answer that he, too, had had enough of that kind of excitement for a while, but was interrupted by a yawn of his own. This set off a great deal more yawning all around, and they decided to turn in.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Area_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ July 22, 1915, midday_

In the summer heat, getting out of the office was something of a combat assignment, since it carried, in Shinji's opinion, the very real threat of bodily harm. The stone building were radiating heat, and on the way from Captain Ryouji's office to the hangar, practically no shadows were to be found - first one had to cross the assembly area, then the open space in front of the hangar itself, both of which, logically, had nothing to cast shadows. And Captain Ryouji was out inspecting things again, so that meant no staff car ride for Shinji when he had been ordered by his father to meet him in the Evangelion hangar.

When Shinji entered, he felt like he had jumped into the cool sea, the air inside being several degrees cooler than the outside, and even more importantly, in the shadow. Unit 1 still dominated the empty space, having been placed in an upright and kneeling position again,, though, much to Shinji's horror, it was currently missing its head. This was even worse for Shinji as he had thought the head the only part of the machine he hadn't in some way damaged in the last fight.

Besides Unit 1, another free area had been cleared, with a a scaffold that looked ready to receive another Evangelion. Since Ryouji had said nothing about getting any new units, Shinji figured that this had to be for the German unit. It looked like Aida would see his dream - or nightmare - come true quite soon.

Shinji looked around the hangar, and noticed that the number of technicians was rather small, and those that were present were busy with a large tarp covered object off to one side. His father stood next to the headless form of Unit 1, looking up at it with something like idle curiosity, pointing out a few things to the person next to him. Seeing this person caused quite the surprise to Shinji, as she looked like the one they had - almost - hit during his first ride into the city. Even if he had only seen that person for a short moment, Shinji decided that blue hair was enough of a distinctive trait to make the connection. However, she was now out of the hospital garb and into a rather over sized uniform of the Naval Support Service, which did not quite look like it had been assigned to her. While it was true that the quartermaster had only two sizes of uniforms available - too large and too small - this had to be the most egregious example of this that Shinji had ever seen.

He stopped behind the pair and cleared his throat to get their attention. He snapped a salute when his father turned around, but the older man did not return it.

"Ah, Shinji. Good, good. I was just telling Rei about the changes to the Evangelion."

Rei, Shinji assumed, was the name of the blue-haired girl that was with him. Part of him wanted to say that he wouldn't have minded showing Rei the Evangelion by himself. Part of him wouldn't have minded at all. She was definitely a very beautiful girl and was looking terribly out of place in her oversized uniform amongst all the military men. Taking her away, somewhere more...secluded might be advisable.

"We have recently acquired a device that will allow us to mimic the impenetrable shield displayed by the monsters you fought, Shinji", his father continued, gesturing to the tarp covered object in the hangar.

"Captain Ayanami here knows how to operate it and will therefore join the crew of Unit 1 as copilot. I trust that you will work together well. Any questions?"

Shinji shook his head. It was standard procedure to give specialist personal the rank of Captain to integrate them into a chain of command (Ritsuko, for example, was a Captain as far as the Imperial Navy was concerned, but she obviously had a very short chain of command to her Commanding Officer), though it did annoy him somewhat to be outranked by girl without so much as a proper uniform.

"Ensign Ikari will remain in command of the unit as far as tactical disposition and combat operations are concerned."

Shinji grimaced for a second. This setup would mean that what had been a chain of command started to look more like a loop, or a whipsaw of command. Personal issues aside, Shinji preferred to know exactly who was in command at all times, rather than arguing it out in the worst possible moment, that is when the situation called for dedicated leadership.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have other things to attend to. Rei, remember that you have an appointment this afternoon."

The girl gave no acknowledgement. His father left without another word. Now alone with Rei Ayanami (safe for a few technicians), Shinji found himself at a loss for words. the first problem, of course, was the question of proper address - was it Captain Ayanami (the safe option), Ayanami-san (the proper address for someone below his status, which she technically was and yet, was not) or simply Ayanami? Calling her ma'am sounded all too silly to him, given that she was maybe a year younger than he was.

"So", he said, carefully omitting any form of address, to break the silence, "have you ever sat in an Evangelion before?"

"I have.", the pale girl answered, then, after a moment, continued, "I was to be the pilot for Unit 1. There was an accident, and then I was not."

Shinji figured that would have been the moment someone wrote a letter and sent a courier to Kobe.

"You...weren't? Weren't what? Captain?", Shinji asked, still unsure of what the proper address was and using what he decided was the safest way to go about things.

"I was not. You are, are you not?", came the reply, and only strict discipline kept Shinji from making a disparaging remark out loud about his new copilot. Here he was, meeting a person who he was supposed to trust his life to when they went into combat, and she was either stupid or playing word games with him. And she wasn't smiling, so it was probably the former.

And to make matters even worse, she outranked him.

Ayanami then said that she had to leave, and left Shinji in the hangar. For a moment, he almost wished for an attack, which would allow him to take out his frustrations on something.

_Kiel residence_  
_ Munich, Germany_  
_ July 31, 1915, shortly before midnight_

'...And the Lord will have shrouded His messenger in an armor made of the purest light; that no man's[1] sword can pierce and no man's arrow can penetrate, so that the weapons of man will have no effect upon them as they deliver His judgment...', the piece of paper in his hand said. Lorenz' eyes swept to the corresponding footnote, where the translator had taken care to point out that man, in this context, should probably be read as human rather than masculine, since the people writing the Dead Sea Scrolls, as they had come to be known, could not conceive that a woman might wield arms and naturally wrote about men doing combat. However, the translator finished, God does not care for semantics. Which hadn't kept Lorenz from taking what measures he could to ensure that a good portion of Evangelion pilots were female. He did not believe in taking risks that he did not have to. Even if the successes in Japan had proven the translator right.

It was this piece of paper - and the others like it - that was the key to their success. And it had been written by people for whom anything they did would have seemed like magic. Making light without a fire. Speaking to a person on the other side of the world as if he was right there. Using a tool to kill another thing in an instant, even when it is further away than the best bow could ever hope to shoot. Creating and controlling giants out of metal, more than 10 times as large as a man. Perhaps, he mused sometimes, even the people who gave the Angels their name, people who could think of such things only as messengers from God, would have agreed that they had a fighting chance.

Especially now that they had harnessed the Angel's armor for their own purposes. Selecting Ikari was proving to be a very wise decision, even if they could not be certain of his loyalty to their cause. But measures had been taken to address the issue. For now, he was doing well, and that meant he would stay were he was.

Still, further study of the texts was necessary. Their mere discovery had been a small miracle, since all they had to go by was on old text attributed to a Roman historian, saying that the texts were 'safely hidden in the desert'. Which was where they had stayed for more than two millenia, awaiting their discovery. There had been expeditions to find them, certainly. After all, the Roman had claimed that these texts contained the secret to become a god, or at least very much like a god. Dozens of people perished looking for these scrolls. And yet it had been Lorenz who finally found them, at a place where no one could have imagined it.

When Napoleon Bonaparte was in Egypt, he had with his army also a group of scientists and archaeologists, who traveled with them and conducted their research whenever the army came upon something potentially interesting. And it was Egypt, the country was full of interesting things. Too many to properly analyze them in time, and when the Egyptian adventure ended, the French had intended to ship much of what they had found but not yet researched back to France. Most of it ended up in British hands in some way or another, but a casket of scrolls, found in a cave in Syria, made for poor bounty and reached France unmolested. It went to a well known professor of the time, who took it with him to his estate near Paris and promptly forgot about it. As did his heirs.

Some 70 years later, another Napoleon - the third, though the second had been skipped - had, rather foolishly, declared war on the German states over an abridged telegram. He had subsequently gone to lose the war in a rather spectacular fashion. His people, however, continued to resist, and so the German armies marched through France and onto Paris. Lorenz had been a good deal younger than, serving with the Bavarian army in the staff of a division. One day, as they neared Paris, the staff took quarter in the mansion of a rich French family - after they had fled. Lorenz, on the look for something to put the maps on, had stumbled over a crate. He had opened it, looked at the scrolls and thought he had gone mad. He knew the stories of these scrolls, as he had planned to become a student of ancient history after he was done with being a soldier. For him, it had been more of an interesting story, rather like the question where Atlantis was supposed to be (a short look into Plato's text revealed that there was no such place). And so Lorenz had taken the scrolls as his very personal war booty.

He had considered it his personal ticket to fame in the scientific community, somewhat like the Frenchman Champollion, who had solved the riddle of the hieroglyphs. But the first professor he had approached about it had put him in contact with a few people who could convince him not to publish this work. Based on the scrolls, the group had set events in motion that should eventually have led to a world fundamentally different from the one of today, but something went wrong. Something went wrong in Antarctica, and the only survivor sat in Japan and had not spoken a single word since then.

There were some that said that they had blown their chance to become gods (or reasonably close to being gods, the difference was really academic at this point, that is to say it was argued endlessly) - quite literally, in fact. Others said that what had happened was exactly what was supposed to happen and that everything was going according to the prophecy. Lorenz, for his part, had assumed a position in the middle, claiming that the Antarctica operation was a failure, but that the situation was still salvageable, if they acted accordingly. And that meant beating what the Dead Sea Scrolls called Angels, which were protected by an armor that no man's sword could pierce.

Thankfully, the texts had also spoken of a weapon that could, though mentioning that no man (with the usual complications with the definition of 'man') could lay a finger on it or lift it. But that was a problem which modern technology easily solved.

The doorbell rang and shook him out of his thoughts. A quick look on the clock on the wall told him that it had to be fairly important, since it was almost midnight. He went for the door, wondering what could warrant a disturbance at this hour. As he reached the hallway, he could see that it was only a single man, standing in front of the door. That meant that it was probably not an attempt at an internal coup, and that meant that his old service revolver stayed in its hiding place.

He opened the door, and the man - another of his colleagues in the subtle science of becoming god - rushed inside, obviously agitated. He waved a piece of paper around, but was so out of breath that it took him some time before he could speak.

"We have a problem!", he said, waving the piece of paper around for emphasis.

Lorenz remained impassive, seeing how anyone could have guessed that much.

"It...we...it is coming earlier than we thought. There was a mistake in the translation, and..."

Lorenz stopped him with a motion. Working with the scrolls was an interesting but often frustrating experience. On the one hand, they were invaluable in determining the proper course of action, on the other, it was most difficult to actually find the proper course of action. For example, the part dealing with the Angels and their appearance had some very definite dates, on which the Angels were supposed to appear. However, the method used to give these dates was very variable, ranging from the roman calendar, over the Jewish one, via several poorly researched ones specific to the time and place when the scrolls were written, to finally giving it in days relative to the waking of the first Angel. The main problem was not so much transcribing it to the modern calendar, it was that the dates were contradicting each other, since the writers had always given several dates for every Angel, and had been - as one translator had put it - not in the soundest state of mind when they had written down the prophecy.

"When will it arrive, then?", he asked.

"The first of August, about noon.", came the answer, "But Japan is about 12 hours ahead of us, so..."

"Just about now.", Lorenz said. There was nothing to be done. Ikari was on his own for this one.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ Overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_ August 1, 1915, midday_

Gendo Ikari stared down at the piece of paper he had just been given. The message was short, concise and to the point, much like its predecessors. Unlike its brothers, however, it was also late. He handed the paper to Fuyutsuki, who was standing next to him as usual, and looked back through the binoculars at the Angel hovering above the Palace Grounds. Not that one needed any help in seeing it, since the Angel dwarfed the buildings around it easily. But he was focusing on the drill it was using to, well, drill into the Palace Grounds.

"Well, it does. Or did, anyway.", Fuyutsuki said next to him, meaning the message he had just read.

Gendo did not answer that. The old man liked tore the piece of paper apart and threw it away, so that the shreds were carried away by the wind. Gendo looked after them and noted that the cruiser Tone had made steam and maneuvered to present its broadside to the Angel. It had shown up very unexpected, and had caught them at a very bad time, with no preparations made to repel an attack. A moment later, Tone fired a salvo from its guns, and mere seconds later found that once more, conventional weapons had no effect at all. The response came almost immediately. One of the corners of the cubic Angel lit up, and a beam of light lashed out across the bay to strike the Tone. A great pillar of steam rose up where the ship had been, and the dreaded cross shaped column of light appeared to mark where the Tone had just perished with most of its crew.

"Do you have a plan in mind?", Fuyutsuki asked while little parts of what had been a cruiser only moments ago rained down around them.

If Gendo's calculations were accurate, they were quickly running out of time. Now was not the moment for elaborate plans, but for decisive action.

"Operational orders:", he said, looking through his glasses, "The First Home Defense Fleet takes command of all units in the greater Tokyo area. All units are to stand by for an all out attack at 0000 hours sharp. Furthermore, I order you to assemble whatever artillery you can get. Steal it if you have to. If in doubt, tell them it's on the Emperor's orders. The same applies to air units."

Fuyutsuki nodded and left. Gendo turned to Ryouji, who had observed the short exchange of violence some way away from them.

"Get the Evangelion ready to sortie. I want it operational before nightfall."

Ryouji was not looking too happy with this.

"Sir, the Evangelion is in disassembly, I don't see how we could possibly..."

He stopped himself short.

"I will get on it, Sir."

He left, but Gendo's worries remained. The Captain had been right - the Evangelion was in no shape to fight and still stuck in process of implementing the new defense system. But looking at the Angel, he knew that there was no other option. What they had available would have to be enough. It would just have to.

**A/N:** So ends the third chapter of NGE: A Century Apart. I have to say that I like it a bit more than the second one, which I think lacked focus in some parts. Well, it is my first fanfic of this scope, so I am still learning. Help me to improve by leaving a comment!

Apart from that, thank you for your comments and your support, I really appreciate it.


	4. Chapter 4

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar Area _  
_Tokyo _  
_August 1, 1915, midday_

The sudden howl of the sirens had made lunch a rather messy affair, as the entirety of people currently eating had suddenly found themselves trying to go somewhere else in a hurry - mostly to their duty stations. As a result, food had been flying everywhere, and so Shinji was picking grains of rice off his uniform while he waited in the hangar for something more concrete.

Seeing the state of Unit 1, he considered it unlikely that he would have to sortie in a hurry. Or rather, that he would sortie anytime soon at all, since major parts of the Evangelion were still in different parts of the hangar building. Captain Ayanami seemed to have come to the same conclusion, or at least hadn't shown up yet. Somehow, the thought of her slacking was a conflicted one; on the one hand he felt a certain amount of anger at such sloppiness, on the other a certain satisfaction that she was not as good a soldier as he was. Perhaps this would mean that she would be reassigned, preferably far away from him. He ignored any treacherous pangs of regret at such a thought.

Shortly after Shinji, the rest of the technicians arrived, but seemed unsure how to proceed. There had been no orders from higher up, and so they could do little else than standing around and wait.  
Suddenly, a shout came from the entrance of the hangar that the enemy had been spotted.

Naturally, this sent everyone scrambling towards the entrance of the hangar. Shinji followed somewhat slower, mindful of his rank and his position. It would not do for an officer of the Imperial Navy to appear too concerned with the enemy by rushing anywhere. Still, he decided, it was a reasonable thing to take a look at it.

What he saw, however, was not exactly morale-raising. The enemy was a giant, floating cube (or at least some angular shape - geometry had not been high on the Naval Academy's list of subjects Navy officers should be educated in), floating low over the city, apparently unconcerned at the goings of the city around it. It did not behave like an attacker, Shinji thought, but like a victorious conqueror, as if there was not a single thing in the country - or, indeed, the entire world - that could stop it. Such arrogance should normally be a weakness, but after having beaten two monsters in recent months, there was a distinct feeling of uneasiness in the back of Shinji's mind. The last battle had been a close call, and with the enemy here while the Evangelion was still being repaired, it may well have been too close. The enemy's confidence could well turn out to be justified, and he did not dare thinking what defeat would mean for the city and for Japan as a whole.

But then again, the last two enemies had been sea monsters of some kind, and this one could, all things considered, really only be a machine sent by some hostile country. It was far to perfect and geometrical to have been created by natural means. Perhaps its defeat would allow them to learn who had sent it, and if they had anything to do with the other attacks. And then, perhaps, they could end this threat to Japan. Somehow, Shinji noted, the prospect of more combat had lost any appeal to him in the last two months, if it had ever held any.

Shinji turned back into the hangar, wondering what his role in the battle to come would be, when the sound of naval gunfire came from the harbor. He turned around, and as he had both expected and feared, the shells could be seen quite clearly exploding some way away from the enemy. When the cube lashed out and fired back at the ship that had attacked it, the sense of unease that Shinji felt grew even larger. A great explosion sounded from the harbor, where the target had most likely been.

Then, it started to make a sound like heavy rain hitting the roof of the hangar. Looking around, Shinji noted that it came from little metallic things raining down on the base. The remains, no doubt, of whatever ship had just fired down at the harbor, which was several hundred meters away.

Suddenly, Shinji wasn't at all sorry that he had skipped most of his lunch.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_ August 1, 1915, midday_

The destruction of the Tone had put a swift end to any discussions of a counter attack in broad daylight. Instead, the mood had turned very pessimistic, as everyone involved knew that the Evangelion was not in any shape to attack. And even if it had, some argued, it could not hope to stand against such firepower, at least not on its own. And conventional weapons were useless, as shown, so another Evangelion would be needed - the closest was currently moving down the Red Sea on a slowly moving freighter.

Already, the General commanding the Imperial Guard had once more demanded the immediate use of special ammunition - poison gas. Gendo had made his opinion on the matter clear again, and had then been forced to evoke some very special rights set down in the Army-Navy agreement concerning the defense of the capital, effectively threatening the General with suspension unless he followed orders. The Army would raise hell about it afterwards, no doubt, but at the moment Gendo cared little for that. After all, they had to ensure that there would be an afterwards first.

The primary problem remained, though, that they had an enemy who commanded vastly superior firepower with impunity. Gendo had no doubt that the Lance could penetrate the Angel's defenses, but the question remained how the Evangelion would get close enough to use it. As it stood, there was no reason to believe that it could walk right up to it and stab it.

"Why hasn't it leveled the city yet? Shouldn't it be trying to improve its field of fire?", Fuyutsuki asked behind him.

Gendo had to concede that he had a point, for a thing that had so rapidly and violently responded to an attack that had not even damaged it, it was surprisingly calm now. Even more importantly, it had struck back, not initiated the attack on the cruiser, which was even more strange - the cruiser had behaved openly hostile when it had maneuvered to bring its guns to bear, yet the Angel had let it do so, only to instantly retaliate. So somehow, it could sense when it was being attacked, but had no means of determining when an attack would come. Probably. Maybe. Gendo shook his head - sound military planning demanded that he judged this conclusion as "possible" at best, unlikely at worst. After all, naval tactics might not be the Angel's strongest suite, meaning that it, in fact, hadn't perceived the Tone as attacking until she had fired.

"Sirs?", the voice of Lieutenant Hyuga asked, sounding like more bad news on a day that had already been full of them.

Turning around, he could see that the young engineer was actually looking very uncomfortable, and could already guess what he would tell him. He nodded to the Lieutenant, who took his cap in his hand and stepped forward. He cleared his throat and began his report.

"I am very sorry, Sir, but I do not believe that it is possible to get the Evangelion operational in time for a night attack. I - really, it is not possible. We don't even have half of the spare parts we need, and even if we did, we still have to rewire the entire lower body, nevermind the structural damage it took from the fire. There is only so much we can do in a given amount of time."

He bowed deeply in apology, looked up to see Gendo's frown, and bowed a little deeper. Gendo could not fault him for feeling nervous - in some parts of the Imperial Navy, telling an officer that his order was impossible was considered almost mutiny, and certainly ended careers.

"That does not help me, Lieutenant. Only the Evangelion can defeat the enemy, so I need it to be able to take the fight to the enemy. And I need you to get that done for me. Cut some corners if need be. Is that clear?"

Hyuga looked up again, and Gendo could see tears of shame on his face.

"Sir, what you are asking is an impossibility. It is not that I could bypass some regulation and some recommended engineering practices to get the Evangelion combat ready again - it just can't be done in the time and with the resources we have. There are not enough corners for me to cut. Or rather, several corners are missing, which I would still have to cut.", he said, shutting up before he could finish driving this particular metaphor into the ground.

"And still, that does not help us any. Perhaps you should begin thinking outside the box. The Evangelion will sortie at midnight. How you manage to do that is up to you. I am absolutely confident that a man of your ability can come up with something.", Gendo said and turned around, making clear that he considered the discussion over.

"Really, Sir, I do not see how we could get the Evangelion into a fighting shape, considering its state, which I told you alre...", Hyuga stopped when he noted that Gendo was not listening anymore.

He had, after all, other things to worry about, though Fuyutsuki was once again proving his worth, as he had been able to get messages to all available artillery units in the area - after apparently having reproduced their exact location and disposition from memory - in record time. The problem was that Gendo was still not sure of his battle plan, and was only getting whatever assets he could get his hands on, following the old military saying that it is always better to have something and not need it, than to need something and not have it. Considering the outcome of the first (and only) exchange between humanity and the Angel, it was more than doubtful that artillery would play a major role, but if it would offer even the smallest advantage, he was going to put all he could into getting it.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Evangelion Hangar_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ August 1, 1915, midday_

A mere 20 minutes after the alarm had sounded, Captain Ayanami had finally arrived at the hangar. She had given no explanation for her late arrival, but did not seem too bothered by it, either. Shinji, used to the very strict standards of the Naval Academy, was naturally not at all satisfied with this. But since Ayanami outranked him (and was in another organization to boot), there was very little he could do or say about it. He therefore settled for frowning in her direction, which did not get the message across at all, but at least made him feel a little better. It had the somewhat unintended side effect to make Ayanami frown back at him, which, a traitorous part of his mind noted, looked quite cute.

Thoroughly confused about the situation, he was saved by the timely arrival of Lieutenant Hyuga, who looked like he had just lost the most important battle of his life. He passed Shinji, head hanging low, before coming to a stop in front of the heap of metal that was Unit 1. There the lieutenant stood, muttering to himself and shaking his head.

"So, are we waiting for something in particular?", the voice of Captain Ryouji said behind him, causing Shinji to turn around and snap a salute, which the captain, as usual, decided to ignore. Ayanami, Shinji noted, had retreated to a box of spare parts and had taken out a small book to read, ignoring the SNLF Captain, despite being of a junior rank since she had been promoted after him. Sometime, he decided, someone had to teach her all about those military manners, but he also resolved - against vehement protests by mutinous parts of his mind, which claimed that some time alone with the Captain would be very nice indeed - that that someone wouldn't be him.

Captain Ryouji had in the meantime snuck up on the Lieutenant, who was still trapped in his misery and did not notice him.

"Seeing that no one is working, I assume the Evangelion is ready?", the Captain said, "I am just asking because no one is working, which confuses me a bit, since the head of the Evangelion is still way over there, and I always thought it was quite an essential part of..."

Marvelously, this seemed to shake Hyuga out of his stupor, as the Lieutenant looked at the SNLF man with something that came dangerously close to murder in his eyes. For a moment, Shinji wondered if he would have to step in, but the remembered that Captain Ryouji was both his superior and a good deal stronger than he was, so any intervention would be either unneeded or unsuccessful anyway. And Shinji was fine by that, but decided to step closer anyway. Looking over to Ayanami, he saw that she was still reading her book - looking at the Latin characters on the title, it was a foreign book, though Shinji could not for the life of him figure out what it might be.

"No, the Evangelion is not ready. If you want an estimate, I'd say we can have it ready to start walking tests within two weeks if we had all the spare parts we need right now - which we don't - and basic integration tests for the new defense system a week after that, with full combat drills early next month and full readiness maybe a week or two into September. If the tests go well - which they probably won't."

"Well,...", Ryouji began, but the Lieutenant was not finished and cut him off immediately, apparently unconcerned for military protocol.

"And before you ask, no, there is no way that we can 'cut some corners'. The problem is that it Just. Takes. Time. to do the thing necessary to make the Evangelion work again, and that time is not because of some silly safety precautions but because it simply takes a few minutes to install a hydraulic pressure equalization valve, which, by the way, we don't HAVE; nevermind the fact that we need about 400 of them."

"So...", Ryouji began again, but was immediately cut off again.

"No, what you are asking is simply impossible. It can't be done. It can't! Now I do think that you would do better to just make your plans without the Evangelion, because I can guarantee you that it won't leave this hangar on its own tonight."

The Lieutenant fell silent, and after a few moments seemed to start to realize that he had just told a superior officer off - twice. And not just any superior officer, but a SNLF officer (which had a bit of a reputation to maintain).

"Anything else you would want to tell me, Lieutenant?", Captain Ryouji said, his tone friendly. This seemed to unsettle Hyuga even more, and the look of sheer despair he had on his face when he had arrived, which had momentarily been replaced by something like anger, was quickly coming back now, stronger than ever.

"Now, if I understood you correctly, Lieutenant,", Captain Ryouji continued, "the Evangelion can not move under its own power, right?"

Hyuga, seeming more glad that he might get away unscathed than wary of a potential trap, nodded.

"But it could, in theory, fight, is that also correct?"

A look of confusion crossed the face of the young engineer, and the idea that the Captain might try to lead him somewhere seemed to dawn on him.

"Well, with all due respect..." - Ryouji chuckled at this - ", Sir, I don't quite see how the Evangelion would be able to fight with the enemy in this state - it would be a sitting duck."

"It can use its weapons, can't it?"

"Well, yes, the internal machine guns, certainly. But as I told Ensign Ikari, that will probably not be enough."

Shinji was inclined to agree, after the last battle, where the internal machine guns had done little more than annoy the enemy. Going against something so massive with a mere 4 machine guns was the equivalent of suicide, and Shinji was not at all keen on dieing without effect. Not that he was very keen on dieing in the first place.

"It can use the lance, if it can move its arms. Can it move its arms?", Ryouji asked.

"Well...", Lieutenant Hyuga began, looking very uncomfortable, "it might be possible to restore some amount of motor functions to the upper body, enabling the Evangelion to move its arms."

"Excellent!", Ryouji exclaimed, and turned to leave, leaving behind a thoroughly confused engineer and a slightly less confused pilot (and a completely unfazed Defense Specialist).

Shinji and Hyuga exchanged a glance, trying to see if the other had any better idea of what just had happened. Hyuga shrugged at Shinji (which he considered rather unmilitaristic) and started to yell at the hangar crew, which started to drag equipment around in a hurry. After having spent a good hour standing around and waiting, everything now needed to happen in a hurry, and a good deal should have happened several minutes ago.

Shinji, for his part, had no business in the hangar while repairs were underway, and so set out to find Captain Ryouji again and, perhaps, get an idea of what he was planning. Military sense would, given that the Evangelion would be stationary, demand that the enemy be lured to it. How one would lead such a giant machine as was hovering above Tokyo around without it noticing the ambush was beyond Shinji, and he feared that he would not like the answer the Captain would give him.

As he left, Shinji looked over to where Captain Ayanami had been sitting, but found the crate deserted. A quick glance through the hangar showed no trace of someone with blue hair. But since he had been following the exchange between Ryouji and Hyuga rather closely, it did not seem impossible that he should have just missed her leaving. The question, of course, was where she had gone - and if she would reappear anytime soon.

He found Captain Ryouji just outside the hangar, leaning against the wall and staring thoughtfully (or perhaps bored, but Shinji preferred to think otherwise) at the giant shape hovering above the city, glittering in the summer sun. It seemed almost peaceful, if it hadn't been for the small pieces of metal that littered the field in front of the hangar - the last traces of the ship that had valiantly (and futilely) engaged the enemy. After the brutal clash, silence had descended once more across the city, but it was different sort of silence - a graveyard's silence, or perhaps a silence like a mouse trying not to be noticed by a tiger.

And Shinji was under no illusions who the mouse was in this metaphor.

"You didn't, by chance, have had something like this as a war game back at the Academy, Ikari?", Ryouji asked.

Shinji could only shake his head. Had the enemy been, say, a Russian battleship squadron, he could have been able to offer some advice, but as it stood he was as clueless as anyone. The fact that Ryouji apparently didn't have much of a plan either did not help Shinji's morale - already a little shaken from watching the short exchange of violence earlier - any.

"Another failure in our curriculum, I see. Well, a military leader must be able to improvise. So, having seen the enemy, what is your plan of attack, Ikari?"

Had they not been standing next to a hangar from which an increasing amount of yelling was coming, Shinji might have wondered if he was still in the Academy, and was just now discussing the latest problem in Basic Naval Tactics class. For a moment, he was actually wondering if he had been sleeping in class (a crime for which he would be cleaning the toilets for months, no doubt) and had only dreamed the last few months. To be sure, the whole thing did sound rather fantastic, like something out of one of Aida's books - an unknown, lowly Ensign being called to fight giant monsters in an equally giant war machine right at the heart of the country, only now slowly uncovering the nefarious plot by the enemies of Japan, would certainly make for a decent story.

Then Captain Ryouji cleared his throat as he noticed Shinji's absentminded look, and Shinji's mind took an abrupt dive back into reality. Back in the here and now, it immediately started to stall for time.

"Attack the enemy with all available forces as soon as we are in an advantageous position!", he said, and Ryouji started to rub his forehead.

"Brilliant plan. Very short, very simple, gets straight to the point. I like it.", his superior answered, and the dripping sarcasm was obvious even to Shinji, who did at times have some problems with it. Mostly because 'he has to be joking' was not a stance that one could afford to take easily in the Imperial Navy, where higher officers often seemed to be required by law to have no sense of humor whatsoever.

To be fair, it was standard doctrine of the Imperial Navy to try and hit the enemy first, to hit it hard, and then to keep hitting until they gave up. It was a good tactic that had served the country well in the last 15 years. It was, unfortunately, rather vague regarding the details of how and when to hit the enemy.

"Well, Sir, clearly we can not wait for it to go away...so I figured we would have to attack it. And it is always better to attack first than to react to an enemy move. Sir.", Shinji continued. His ability to stall for time and then come up with something that actually made some amount of sense had saved him more than once in the academy, where tests on tactical problems were common, and easily sent students who failed them to a life of service to the empire in prestigious positions such as Naval Attache to Switzerland. And as one of the older students had pointed out to Shinji when he had failed his first test (and was therefore in a state of despair), 'One can not do very wrong with stating the obvious. If necessary, state it very clearly and very often and draw the most obvious conclusions from it, and then see where that takes you.'

Which was exactly what Shinji was planning to do.

"And considering that the Evangelion can not move, I assumed that we would have to make do with what forces we had...", he went on, only to be stopped by Ryouji, who kicked against one of the small pieces of debris strewn across the base, sending it flying off into the distance.

"And you honestly believe that anything other than the Evangelion can take it out? After what it did to that ship? After all you saw in the last two battles?"

Shinji had to admit he had a point.

"No, Ikari, the only thing that will do is the Evangelion. The Lance is the only thing that will be able to destroy the enemy."

"If that is the case, then we need to lure the enemy close to the Evangelion, since it can not move."

"And that is the problem", Ryouji said, looking quite content with Shinji's conclusions, "because that thing does not look like it will move anytime soon. Or at all, really."

It did not have to, Shinji thought, since it occupied its objective and was obviously capable to engage any target it choose to with its beam weapon. And its enormous size meant that it always had the high ground, too. So how to lure an enemy into a trap who was right where it wanted to be and which could destroy any threat without having to move?

"It really does seem to be impossible, given the tools that we have.", Shinji said.

"I saw an Evangelion fly once.", a new voice said. Looking up, Shinji saw Captain Ayanami standing next to them. How she had gotten there without them noticing, he had no idea.

"Ma'am, I am not quite sure how an Evangelion could do that...Evangelions can't fly.", Shinji said, while Ryouji looked at them bemusedly.

"But I saw it fly.", Ayanami affirmed, now frowning slightly (which a traitorous part of Shinji's mind once more found very attractive).

"I am not sure," Shinji began carefully, "about other nations, but I can say with some certainty that Unit 1 can not fly."

His attempt at compromise went nowhere, as Captain Ayanami now looked at him like he was claiming that water wasn't wet and that the sun rose at night.

"It was Unit 1 that was flying.", she said, sounding like she had trouble believing that he couldn't - or wouldn't - understand that. "It flew with a Zeppelin.", she finally volunteered, which instantaneously cleared up any confusion for Shinji. Obviously it had used a Zeppelin. He had been there and watched it being lifted by a Zeppelin.

Word games. She was playing word games with him again. Technically the Evangelion had been flying, but he had never assumed that it could have been carried by something that could fly. In hindsight, it was fairly obvious.

"With all due respect, ma'am, I do not see how that gets us any further..."

"Actually, Ikari, it does," Captain Ryouji said to Shinji's horror, "Thank you Captain Ayanami, you have been a great help."

His voice had none of the dripping sarcasm it had when he had criticized Shinji, but seemed to convey genuine gratitude to the blue haired girl, which only blinked in response. Ryouji vanished back inside the hangar, leaving Shinji alone with Captain Ayanami, and the awkwardness that came with it. Ayanami seemed oblivious to it, and after a moment spent looking Shinji up and down, walked away from him, drawing a book out of her uniform pocket as she went. Shinji, left alone for now, sat down next to the open hangar doors with heavy sigh. Somewhere along the line, this day had taken a wrong turn.

"Now, now, Ikari, no need to be pessimistic.", the voice of Captain Ryouji (far too cheerful in Shinji's opinion) told him. "It seems we can make the midnight attack after all. Try and get some sleep while you still can, looks like you and Captain Ayanami are in for a wild night together."

While Shinji did notice the double entree (and part of him immediately designed pictures as to what such a wild night might encompass), it did nothing to lift his spirits. Spending a night with Ayanami, wild or otherwise, was currently rather low on his list of desirable activities, though it did occupy his mind to try and decide whether attacking a giant enemy war machine capable of firing destructive beams was in front or behind it.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ Overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_ August 1, 1915, early afternoon_

"108th Field Artillery Regiment reports they have moved into position and deployed their guns. They have established an ammo dump but the commanding officer is worried about resupply since the road is at full capacity with the 34th and the 62nd Independent Artillery Battalions moving into position."

"Tell him resupply won't be an issue since the battle will be short anyway."

"The commander of the 12th Heavy Artillery Regiment is complaining that his supply train went missing and thinks that the 21st Artillery Regiment has taken them..."

Sometimes, Gendo thought, grown men acted like little children. But then again, they were Army officers, so he really shouldn't be that surprised. The Temporary Combat Headquarters had become a beehive of activity, with messages flying to and from. Somehow, Fuyutsuki managed to remain calm in the storm, only firing short replies back when his expertise was needed. A deployment of forces on such short notice, and on such scale would always be little more than barely controlled chaos, but except an ugly mishap with an ammo train at one of the detraining stations - forcing them to detrain some of their forces in the open - things were going remarkably well.

"The 144th and the 126th Artillery Regiments won't make it in time. We are getting the 15th Coastal Artillery Regiment, though.", Fuyutsuki said, looking over the large map that had been spread across a table, striking off two marks and adding a new one. The map was covered in hastily drawn markers, denoting the positions of units, ammo dumps, prime movers, field hospitals and veterinarian stations for the horses and all the other things that kept an army going. To a laymen, it would be an indistinguishable mess of symbols, but for a military person it was as clear as any other language - though the mass of units placed hastily together in a rather small area made things somewhat difficult. Especially since units were shifted around a lot of the time to improve their field of fire or to make room for other units. As a result, the map was even more unreadable the usual.

"What is the status of the air units?", Gendo asked.

His question was answered within a moment, when Fuyutsuki pointed to the north.

Near the horizon, something glittered silvery, and the wind carried with it a sound much like a swarm of bees. A few minutes latter, the sound had grown to a very large and very angry swarm of bees, and the silvery glitter had resolved itself into the First Naval Airship Strike Division, made up by no less than 4 major carrier Zeppelins - the Shokaku, Zuikaku, Akagi and Kaga. Between them they carried well over a hundred planes, and had been on exercise near the Russian coast when the Angel appeared. The wind had apparently helped their return, bringing much needed reinforcements. Together with the independent units pouring in from all over Japan, they had probably the largest combined force of combat airplanes ever assembled.

"Captain Ryouji reports that they have found a way to get the Evangelion operational again and has requested that the Hiryu be turned over to them for this purpose.", a member of his staff reported. "The Kirishima and the Hiei are away on exercise and won't be able to reach us before tomorrow morning. Naval High Command has, however, placed the Third Destroyer Division at our command. Also, Admiral Kataoka has arrived, Sir."

Gendo had no doubt that his superior was very keen on making sure he would not have to face a board of inquiry about his absence during an attack on the capital again. As long as he kept in the background, there should be no complications.

"What on earth is he going to be doing with a Zeppelin?", Fuyutsuki wondered aloud, but Gendo thought that the whole thing was rather self explanatory. It was good thinking, too, since the wind would probably shift to the south come nightfall, allowing the Zeppelin to approach from the sea side and thereby not running through the firing sectors of the artillery. Provided that Ryouji was thinking what Gendo was thinking.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar 2_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ August 1, 1915, 2 hours before midnight_

The second hangar had been designated as the briefing area for the coming battle. Since few resources could be spared to build a proper stage or to place any seats, it was mostly empty except for a few supply crates pushed together to give someone standing on them the necessary height to be seen above the crowd.

Sleep had not come for Shinji, even though he had been trying. Instead, he had twisted and turned in his bed, feeling a deep-seated desire to go out and do something, and at the same time a rising unease - he would never have agreed that it was fear - about the coming battle. This was a new experience for him, waiting powerless until the battle was joined. Knowing that he would have to go out and place himself in the line of danger was, somehow, worse than being told that he had ten minutes to get ready and face the enemy, as it had been the last time.

As a result, his mind had been fixed exclusively on what the near future would bring. Alone in his room, it had conjured dozens of scenarios, trying to decide what was likely to happen and how to deal with it. While he dreaded the coming night for the coming battle, at the same time he was growing more and more desperate to finally get going.

This paradox made staying in bed even worse, where he was trapped within his own mind. He had gone to the mess to finish his lunch and clear his mind, but predictably it was closed while the base was on full alert. Then he had run into Captain Ryouji, who had sent him straight back to bed under direct orders. He had spent the last few hours trying to deal with a mind fixed on the single terrible event that would happen that night, and a body that wanted to just get it over with.

As a result, when sunset came, he was a nervous wreck. He had dressed, finding his hands shaking slightly, and went to the hangar in some sort of daze. Finding Captain Ayanami already there, calmly reading a book, did not help at all. She had barely acknowledged him, looking up only slightly when he entered. After some time that seemed like at least a few hours to Shinji, other officers had arrived, most of which he did not know. Amongst the few that he did know, was the Captain of the Hiryu, who sent Shinji such a devastating glare that he wondered if he had inadvertently insulted the man somehow.

A few felt hours later, the hangar had filled up with a great number of officers, most of them wearing the uniforms of the Imperial Army and of the Air Forces of the two services. Going by the amount of officers, it would be a giant battle, involving thousands of soldiers and dozens of units. Then, Captain Ryouji stepped on the makeshift podium and revealing the blackboard that had been hidden under a cloth.

"Good Evening Sirs. I am Captain Ryouji Kaji, and have been placed in tactical command of this operation.", he said, and an army officer (Shinji wasn't sure if he was a Major or a Colonel, not having much experience with army ranks) chocked before mumbling something about the disgrace of the Navy to place such a low ranking person in command of such a force.

"Within two hours, our forces will strike the enemy designated as TARGET A, currently in place right above the former Imperial Palace. The attack will be supported by massive artillery fire provided by 12 Medium Artillery Regiments, 4 Heavy Artillery Regiments as well as several other independent units. The aerial strike force is made up by the First Naval Airship Strike Division and the Second Naval Airship Strike Division (provisional) as well as dozens of independent air groups. It is certainly the most potent force ever assembled by the Japanese Empire."

If this was meant to have any effect on the waiting officers, it failed. Most of them had been in combat (they were wearing the customary swords), and probably knew a poor motivational speech when they heard one - they probably had made some as well. In fact Shinji, started to get the feeling that this was more for his benefit than for anyone else in the room.

"While the attack is underway, the First Home Defense Fleet will deploy its Evangelion against the enemy.", Ryouji said, and Shinji perked up.

"It will be carried by the Zeppelin Hiryu, on loan from the Imperial Airship Service.", the captain continued, which caused some disagreement from a group of officers that were, apparently, the Captains of the First Naval Airship Strike Division, who were complaining that a civilian should get such an important role in the battle. Judging by the look on the face of the Captain of the Hiryu, he would probably not object to keep his Zeppelin out of harms way.

"The task of the Hiryu is to bypass the enemies defenses and deliver a direct strike. It will do so by drifting in, being carried by the wind and preferably inside a cloud to avoid detection."

At this point, Shinji's jaw dropped. He was expected to strap himself into a machine made out of several dozen tons of metal, after that machine had been tied to a giant balloon full of highly flammable gas, and then drift slowly towards the enemy while there was a giant battle going on around them, before presumably stabbing the enemy to death with a lance (while still tied to said giant bag of highly flammable gas).

His first thought was that he was suddenly rather glad that Captain Ryouji had had no time to come up with any other battle plans in the past, as he would probably not be alive today. The second thought was that he would die tonight. He knew that he should trust an officer of Ryouji's caliber to come up with a good and solid plan. He also knew that these plans usually had something called 'unavoidable but acceptable casualties'. These were nothing new to him, and he had made similar plans in war games at the Academy, occasionally sacrificing destroyers to save battleships.

He had just never figured that he might end up as one of them.

"Once the Evangelion makes contact, it is imperative that the pressure on the enemy does not relent. Allowing the enemy to focus on the Evangelion will mean almost certain defeat. The Evangelion will probably attack from the south. Aircraft will engage from the north. Artillery will fire from the east and west. There should be no overlap in the engagement zones."

In other words, Shinji thought, they would keep shooting at him while he was fighting with the enemy in close combat. Massed artillery fire was not a very precise instrument, and some shots would miss their target. Some aircraft would get lost in the dark. And that was just when the Hiryu delivered him exactly on station and he didn't get lost.

Captain Ryouji asked for questions, and Shinji briefly entertained the idea of asking if he was out of his mind. Admittedly, he had no other idea how to beat the enemy, but every part of it screamed of desperate optimism. And optimism, he had been taught at the Naval Academy, had no place in operational considerations. Classmates of his had failed exercises for ironically asking what the worst thing was that could happen. Desperation, too, was not something that should be obvious in a military plan either.

The hangar was clearing out around him, the other officers leaving quickly to get back to their units. Eventually, only the two captains and Shinji remained. Ryouji had jumped down from the makeshift stage. He exchanged a few words with Captain Ayanami (which had, surprisingly, decided to forgo her reading during the briefing and seemed to have actually paid attention), who left the hangar without a word to Shinji.

"Judging by your facial expression, Ensign, I'm starting to have my doubts at your willingness to fight for Emperor and Nation.", Ryouji said. "It's the terrified look, I think."

Shinji only managed a slightly shaky "Sir?" in response.

Ryouji looked at him with something like curiosity in his eyes, as if he was not quite sure what to make of that. For a brief moment, Shinji hoped that the Captain would relieve him of duty because he looked like he would have a nervous breakdown any minute - he certainly felt the part. Then Ryouji's face hardened. He mumbled something that sounded like a curse, then grabbed Shinji by the shoulder and half-dragged him out of the hangar.

Outside, Shinji found himself manhandled along towards a small hill inside the base, from where one could see a good part of Tokyo.

"Now, Ikari, I believe I told you all this already, but perhaps a repetition is in order. I don't know what they told you at the Academy about what your purpose here is, so feel free to interrupt me at any time."

Shinji had no idea what Captain Ryouji was talking about, but going by the tone of his voice, it would probably have been a bad idea to say so, so he just kept quiet.

The city before them lay dark, its inhabitants having run hours ago, when the giant had first appeared and settled over the city. Which, Shinji reasoned, was a very good and reasonable decision and he really should have done the same.

"As you can see, Ikari, there are usually a great many people living in this city. Some are old, some are young, some are rich, some are poor. Do you know why they aren't in the city right now?", Ryouji asked.

The answer was so obvious (it was rather big and had a tendency to destroy warships if provoked) that Shinji had to wonder if it wasn't a trap he was not seeing.

"I assume it is because of the enemy and the coming battle, Sir. They don't want to get caught in it. They don't want to...", he trailed off, suddenly suspicious that this was how Ryouji was trying to get to the 600 pound Panda sitting in the room.

"...die, you wanted to say, right?", Ryouji said, and the smirk that was appearing told Shinji that his suspicion had been well founded.

"Quite right, Ikari, they don't want to die. Now, next question. Why are you here? Not in a philosophical sense, please, or the Commodore will appear and then we will never get anything done."

So this was it, Shinji decided. The captain wanted him to confront the fact that he was not a civilian, and that he was therefore here to die, at the emperor's demand, kindly delivered by the Captain. He drew a deep breath.

"To die, I assume.", he said, trying hard not to sound to depressed about it. After all, Japanese soldiers were supposed to be eager to get into combat, and should death take them, die honorable and standing upright, not broken and crying.

There had been a lot of study of old stories from the various wars Japan had waged over the centuries at the Academy, and looking back, Shinji found that there had been a suspicious lack of any substantial information that could be gained from it. Learning about some battle in feudal Japan certainly helped little when commanding a warship running at 20 knots and engaging another at 15 nautical miles. No, all those stories had taught them how the warriors of Japan had faced their fate. How they had dealt with desperate situations, specifically. And the lesson had been clear: Stand straight, head held high, and face your death without flinching. For if one had to die, one could at least keep a minimum of dignity and self discipline.

This revelation brought Shinji to a frightening new possibility - that Captain Ryouji had found no workable plan after all, and that this was, indeed, the great and glorious death charge of the First Home Defense Fleet, with Shinji leading.

"Very noble of you, but also wrong.", Ryouji said.

"No, Ikari, you are here to fight.", he said after a short pause, in which Shinji had looked at him in complete confusion, "The people in this city either can't fight or don't want to, so that is why they pay you for it. You are here for that one reason: to fight the enemy. Not to die."

He grabbed Shinji by the shoulders and bowed down to look him straight in the eye.

"I don't want you to die, and I don't want you to think that you are here to die. There is one thing I always tell the people under my command, so now I'm telling you: The emperor does not want you to die, and the people of Japan don't pay you to die. They want you to fight, and so you fight. When the enemy rips off your arms, you kick him. If he cuts off your legs, you bite him. You fight, and fight, and keep fighting until you can fight no more. Only then have you fulfilled your purpose and are allowed to die. Do you understand?"

Shinji, slightly dumbfounded by the sudden outburst, could only nod.

"Good.", Ryouji said, as he turned back to the hangar. "I can make that an order, if you want. Don't die."

Somehow, Shinji felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. It was, he reasoned as he was walking down the hill after his superior, actually quite silly to feel relieved by this speech. At no point had Ryouji said that it would be easy, or that there was little risk of death. But somehow, the mere fact that he wasn't being sacrificed by his commanding officer - or that at least, his commanding officer managed to seem sincere about not sacrificing him - had managed to instill some sense of hope in him.

He looked up to see the stars and found the sky without lights. A quiet hum filled the air. The Hiryu was coming in to land.

_Imperial Japanese Navy Evangelion Unit 1_  
_ currently attached to Zeppelin Hiryu, 2000 meters above Tokyo Bay _  
_August 1, 1915 __10 minutes before midnight_

Due to the way the Evangelion had been lashed under the Zeppelin, there was no way Shinji and Captain Ayanami could make the journey in the Zeppelin and switch into the Evangelion once they reached the target zone. Instead, they had spent the last hour inside the Evangelion, and once the Hiryu had found a cloud to hide in, in quite a bit of misery. The inside of the Evangelion, which gave little shelter against the elements since it was not meant to be airlifted in this fashion, had gotten cold, and the moisture of the cloud had started to condense on the walls of the cockpit. Apparently, the production model would feature electric heating and a fully enclosed cockpit, which would also allow the Evangelion to operate in gas-contaminated areas. Not that it helped Shinji much, who could only hope that the water dripping down into the Evangelion wasn't damaging anything important. Like, for example, the engine which they would need to power the Evangelion in combat. Which, coincidentally, Hyuga had told him would 'probably' work.

Behind him, Captain Ayanami sniffled, as she had done several times over the last few minutes. Shinji could feel his own nose running, and being stuck in the harness, he could not even wipe it. Nor could he warm his fingers, which were getting rather numb in their handles. Ayanami, sitting in the rear cockpit, could at least do that. He, on the other (cold) hand, could only hope that his hands were still usable when it counted. In retrospect, asking for gloves wouldn't have been a bad idea at all. Ayanami could engage most of the functions he needed fingers for from the rear cockpit anyway, and to have this operation fail because his fingers had frozen would be a really stupid way to go. He made a mental note to do so the next time he was riding a Zeppelin to a combat zone in his Evangelion, a thought that made him chuckle.

"Is there something funny?", the voice of Captain Ayanami asked from behind the giant red orb that had been placed in between his and the rear cockpit.

Shinji, being the well educated cadet that he was, rallied his amusement immediately. Humor had, after all, no place in a combat zone, even if Captain Ryouji had a different opinion about that. And Captain Ayanami didn't really seem the humorous type, too.

"No ma'am, not at all.", he answered back.

"Oh.", she said, with something that sounded a bit like disappointment in her voice. Then she sniffled again.

The silence in the cockpit stretched, broken only by Captain Ayanami's constant sniffling and the sound of water dripping down into the Evangelion.

"Actually,", he said to break the boredom, "I was just thinking that it would be a good idea to ask for gloves the next time we deploy the Evangelion like this."

"Oh." Ayanami said again, before sniffling yet again.

"And perhaps a handkerchief.", he said, barely suppressing a small chuckle at her timing.

"What would you do with a handkerchief?", Ayanami asked.

Shinji sighed at the missed joke (Ryouji would no doubt have been proud of him for at least trying), then said "Not for me, ma'am. For you. So you can clean your nose."

"Oh.", was all that Ayanami said in response, and the short lived conversation died down again. At least, he reasoned, she did not admonish him for the insolence of telling her to blow her nose like a little girl - something which an older officer would no doubt have. Perhaps Captain Ayanami's disregard of military customs had its positive sides after all.

"Captain Ayanami, I have to ask...", he began anew.

"We should start to activate the Unit", Ayanami said from behind him, before he could finish, "the operation will begin shortly."

"Right. It can wait.", Shinji answered.

"Main Fuel Valve.", Ayanami called out.

"Open.", he answered.

It was certainly unusual to activate the Evangelion in this fashion, given that he was used to have it activated by Captain Ryouji from the back seat, who did not much care about proper procedure. Not that Ayanami usually seemed to care much either, but they had both been given a checklist on how to activate the Evangelion without the support of ground based equipment and with only some parts actually in working order. And Ayanami, at least, seemed to care very much about proper procedure when the Evangelion was concerned.

"Hydraulic pressure equalization valves."

"Primaries open, secondaries closed."

They worked down the list, which ended with Shinji's finger, cold as it was, hovering above the button that started the engine. They only had fuel for about 5 minutes, so they could only activate fully just before touch down. Ayanami called out the last point on the list.

"Defense Field Generator."

Shinji said nothing. That was not his field of expertise, being solely handled by Ayanami. Nothing happened.

"Ready."

Shinji glanced at the clock, which just struck midnight. Then everything went straight to hell.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ Overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_ Moments earlier_

Admiral Kataoka, the nominal commander of the First Home Defense Fleet, had decided to join them on the hill Gendo used to watch the battle this time. Why this was so, Gendo did not know, but the Admiral probably wanted to prevent any charges of neglect or cowardice from springing up. After all, he had been caught on the wrong side of Tokyo Bay during the first attack, and had been away again during the second. A political opponent might construct this as incompetence or unwillingness to command, and a man like the Admiral, who wanted to become Minister for War, obviously had quite a few political opponents.

Not that his presence made much of a difference to the battle. Gendo had made his dispositions - which in effect consisted of hearing Ryouji out and not telling him to get himself admitted to an asylum - so now all was left was to wait out the battle. His part in it was effectively over. Which, by association meant that the part of any authority above him was also over, and that included his superior, Admiral Kataoka.

He actually enjoyed these moments, even if he would never admit to it. Right before a battle like this - not like the last two attacks, which had been mad scrambles to mount a defense - there was always a brief moment of total peace and quiet. A moment when the dispositions had been made and, to paraphrase a famous roman general, the dice had been cast, when the gathered forces of both sides would draw a last deep breath before the complete and utter chaos of battle. For him, at least, it meant that the outcome of the battle - as far as he could influence it - had already been decided, and now he just had to wait and watch it happen.

Other officers, naturally, had different opinions on the last part.

"I'm telling you, Ikari,", Kataoka said, for what had to be the tenth time, "if this fails, we are dead men." Gendo had no objection to that, even if the Admiral and he probably thought about different kinds of death. Kataoka's being, probably, a bit more metaphorical, though one could never know when the Imperial Navy decided to shoot an Admiral to encourage the others. Not that it really mattered. Defeat against the Angels meant the end of the world as they knew it - the men who had gotten Gendo to this position had called it Third Impact, and the name was descriptive enough.

"On the other hand," Kataoka went on (again for what had to be the tenth time), "if you pull this off..." - at this point he attempted a smile that was apparently supposed to be a winning one, but which came out rather forced (but then again, Gendo wasn't an expert on smiles himself) - "...there is a promotion in the works for you, you know. His Majesty Himself was very pleased with your performance in the last battle."

"Perhaps", Gendo answered, "the Admiral wants to wait until the battle is won before he distributes the spoils? Just in case some people prove to be more deserving."

It was as harsh a put-down as he could make to a superior officer while still remaining reasonably polite. Mostly because "to prove more deserving in battle than me" was a metaphor commonly used in the Imperial Navy in conjunction with posthumous promotions. And this battle, in particular, looked like it would produce quite a few of those.

"You are probably right", Kataoka said after a moment of contemplation (or shock) ", it might be bad luck anyway."

Most people would assume that military men, over a certain rank, did not believe in luck. That this was something common to the enlisted and the lower officers. But then again, most people were wrong about a great deal of things, especially connected to the military. One of the things Gendo had learned over the years was that luck was always a factor in battle. He had also been unsurprised to find out that the great Prussian General Clausewitz had noticed the same and had made it part of his greater theory of warfare. Planning could reduce the impact of luck - especially bad luck - but could not remove it. Sometimes, things just went terribly, terribly wrong, and there was nothing one could do about it.

Which probably explained why soldiers of all ranks were somewhat prone to superstition.

It was therefore not unexpected that Admiral Kataoka turned white as a sheet when at strike midnight, the earth below them started to rumble and shake.

"An earthquake!", Admiral Kataoka exclaimed, "Now?"

It was not a large quake, by any means, but it was noticeable enough.

"The artillery, Sir.", Gendo said.

Moments later, the first star shell burst close to the Angel, to illuminate the target for the observers on the hills nearby and for the airplanes making their attack. How the observers were supposed to tell which salvo belonged to their unit, given the amount of guns pointed at the target, Gendo did not know.

Moments later, the first high-explosive shells finished their flight and started to explode against the Angel's protective field. On two sides of the Angel, huge clouds of fire and dust appeared, fueled by ever new shells being hurled against it. Without its defense, there was no doubt that the Angel would have been obliterated in seconds, and it was most disturbing to think that anything could survive in such a hell of fire and steel as was created over Tokyo.

It took the sound a few seconds to roll over the Bay, but when it arrived, it hit like a thunderstorm. It was not so much the sound of an explosion as it was a continuous roar of a very, very angry dragon.

The Angel reacted moments later. A beam of bright light lashed out, reaching easily across the distance, and found the ammunition dump of an artillery unit. Another explosion shook the earth, but the fire thrown against the giant creature over Tokyo did not slacken.

Neither did the fire coming from the Angel. It seemed to pick its targets without regard, ripping through another artillery unit, then flinging its beam against a single aircraft, as if it did not have to care about the threat its enemies represented, and could afford not to fight its strongest enemies first. And to be fair, safe behind its impenetrable wall of shining light, it did not have to.

Then, inexplicably, it seemed to make a mistake and turned its attention on a target behind a small hill. Its beam smashed against the ground, and for a moment, it seemed like this would mean whatever it was shooting at was saved by its cover. Then the soil evaporated, the trees and grass on top of it having been reduced to ash. Then, to the horror of everyone watching, the beam began to melt the very rock, turning it to lava and then to steam. Within seconds, the small hill, which had been on this place for millenia, vanished without a trace into thin air. Finally, the beam found its target, and yet another of the Imperial Army's Artillery units - men, guns and horses - disappeared in a violent explosion.

But still, new shells exploded against the wall of light, and still the airplanes made their runs through the corridor left in the explosions for this reason.

And then, all motion seemed to slow down to a crawl, as the Angel's beam reached out to a small, perfectly innocent cloud hanging over Tokyo Bay.

_Imperial Japanese Navy Evangelion Unit 1_  
_ currently attached to Zeppelin Hiryu, 2000 meters (and falling) above Tokyo Bay_  
_August 2, 1915, shortly after midnight_

War is, by its nature, a sudden thing. Not that war itself was usually a sudden development - except for those that did not know how to read the signs (which, on occasion, did happen even to governments, usually with disastrous results). Combat however, being part of the nature of war, is perhaps one of the most sudden things a human being could be confronted with. One second, one is reasonably safe, the next, one might be dead - or at least in mortal danger.

Shinji had been taught that the thing that separated survivors from casualties in such situation was the speed with which one reacted to a sudden event and how quickly one shook of the shock and started to act - unless of course, one was killed outright.

However, his instructors at the Academy would probably not have recommended screaming as the first course of action. Then again, they never had to face a thing that casually wiped out the cloud they were hiding in and set fire to the Zeppelin they were tied to, so perhaps they would have reconsidered in that situation.

The beam had missed the Evangelion and had hit the Hiryu, apparently ripping through several of the gas bags that were keeping her in the air. And while it was difficult to really discern with the boiling mass of explosions still happening near the enemy, it seemed like the Zeppelin was also on fire, which did nothing to improve the situation.

A moment later, a flash appeared near one of the edges of the angular structure of the enemy. A split second later, Shinji realized that this was what the beam weapon looked like - when it was aimed at him.

Before he could scream a final profanity (Shinji subscribed to the policy that a naval officer shouldn't swear unless it was appropriate), a voice behind firmly said, "No."

It was Ayanami's voice, and it was not the voice of someone who tried to deny the situation. It was the voice of a mother telling her impertinent child that its antics had stopped being funny several minutes ago - and that she was not going to argue about it anymore. Impossibly, the beam of the enemy splashed against a shining armor, shortly before hitting the Evangelion. Then the armor flickered, and reappeared a bit closer to them, before flickering and reappearing, again a bit closer.

"I AM.", Ayanami almost shouted, "And where I AM, no one else can BE."

A terrible weight slammed into Shinji from behind, driving the air from his lungs. More than the physical discomfort, it felt like everything inside him, indeed his very being, was screaming in terrible agony. Like his very existence, at this point, was breaking some fundamental laws of nature, and that reality itself was taking measures against him.

"Ayanami...", he barely managed with what little strength he had left.

Within a moment, the feeling of being rejected by the world itself lessened, and Shinji could breathe once more. The shining wall protecting the Evangelion from the enemy's beam was now a good way away from it, and seemed perfectly stable. A part of him dryly noted that it was probably the first time today that something had not gone horribly wrong when it counted. Instead, it had only gone badly wrong, almost knocking him out from whatever that sensation had been.

Of course, the situation had only been marginally improved by it - the Hiryu was still losing height, and while he could not see the Zeppelin above them, he could see that the fire's shine on the (uncomfortably rapidly closing) water below had grown quite a bit in the mere moment that he had been distracted like this.

However, in that very moment, the crew of the Hiryu seemed to have started up the engines - which made sense, since they were not hiding anymore - and the Zeppelin had made quite a leap forward towards the Enemy. Instead of falling to the sea like a leaf, they were now on a slow descent that would have probably resulted in a crash landing - if they hadn't been over water. Not that it would matter any, since the Evangelion would only have been buried under tons of twisted metal, before the fire would inevitably reach it and kill both Shinji and Captain Ayanami - after all, it was without working legs to run away. As it was, however, it looked more likely that the Evangelion would sink to the bottom of Tokyo Bay, and Shinji had no illusions about getting out of the harness and the tiny entrance above his head before he was dragged down with it.

An explosion shook the Evangelion, and the descent of their carrier increased. Apparently, one of the gas cells had decided that burning down peacefully was not to its liking and had decided to go by the way of a violent hydrogen-oxygen explosion. The newest generation of combat Zeppelins were equipped to pump nitrogen into their hulls before battle to prevent just such an occurrence by preventing the oxygen in the air to come into contact with the hydrogen(if they weren't filled with non-flammable Helium in the first place), but the Hiryu was a civilian craft, and a relatively old one at that.

Strapped into an Evangelion that was tied to a burning Zeppelin some 1500 meters above Tokyo Bay, Shinji wondered briefly if he had insulted some deity personally to merit such punishment.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_August 2, 1915, __shortly after midnight_

Gendo Ikari had seen some battles, and he knew that a lot of the extensive planning that went into winning them usually went out the window seconds after the shooting started. He also knew that a commander should always have a backup plan, reserves to tip the scale, and the will to call off a battle if success was unlikely or impossible.

He also knew that none of this applied to the situation they were in. When the Angel had, for whatever reason, detected the Hiryu and attacked it, their entire plan had gone up in flames (rather like the Hiryu, he noted, but decided that now was not the time for such jokes). They had no reserves - at least, none that could hope to defeat the Angel. Recovering the Evangelion and sending it out again before the Angel's drill reached its destination (which should be within half an hour, if his calculations were correct) was unlikely, if not impossible. Calling off the attack was pointless - if they failed here, the soldiers would probably die anyway.

In retrospect, it had been stupid to put everything on one card. It was gambling of the worst kind, and therefore not something an officer should take part in - at least not on the battlefield. Perhaps, he mused, they should have gone with the plan he had made while Ryouji had been searching for his and rigged the Lance to be fired from the experimental railway cannon the Army had. Granted, that plan had probably even more flaws than Ryouji's (such as the fact that the cannon was designed to hit rather large targets - city sized, actually)- after all, there was a reason they had gone with that one - but in retrospect, Gendo had the feeling that it might have just worked. He sighed - remembering that hindsight was, indeed, hindsight, and that experience always came right after one needed it the most.

The Hiryu continued her descent across the night sky, taking the appearance of a star falling in slow motion. Gendo frowned for a moment, and then pushed that faint feeling of hope at the sight back down. The course of the Hiryu, if the rate of descent remained relatively constant, would carry the airship right towards the Angel, and it almost looked like she might crash into it. However, as more and more of her lifting gas was burned off (he mentally thanked whatever deity was responsible for the safe passage of airships that it was 'just' burning instead of violently exploding), her rate of descent would increase. No, he decided, her demise was certain after all, heroic gesture notwithstanding.

He turned away from the battle and saw the deep frowns - probably matching his own - on the faces of Admiral Kataoka and other senior staff members. Even Captain Ryouji had exchanged his normal attitude of relaxed nonchalance for a look of actual worry. Now, he decided, it truly was the end of time.

And to think, that all of it could have been avoided if those German fools had warned him in time. One day, no - 12 hours, and they probably could have gotten the Evangelion into a walking state, allowing it to advance on foot, protected by its new defense system - which was apparently working well, since it had stopped the beam after that first, surprising shot. It probably wouldn't have been easy, but it would have had a much better chance of actually working, as opposed to forcing them to such a harebrained scheme as this.

_Imperial Japanese Navy Evangelion Unit 1_  
_ currently attached to Zeppelin Hiryu, 1500 meters above Tokyo Bay_  
_August 2, 1915, shortly after midnight_

Shinji, in the meantime, did not have the leisure of lamenting the stupidity of the plan that had brought him to this spot (and if he did, he would not have used the word harebrained to describe it - he had come to the conclusion that the situation was appropriate for a certain level of swearing to be used). Instead, he was desperately trying to figure out a way to survive the coming minutes. It seemed increasingly unlikely, and more than once he was tempted to ask Ayanami to shut down the defense and get it over with, surprising even himself with his turn from the terrified boy that feared death above all else, before he remembered Ryouji's orders to fight until he could fight no more. He wondered, silently, if the captain would consider it acceptable in this situation to give up, but came to the conclusion that Ryouji, being in the SNLF, probably lacked the term 'giving up' in his vocabulary (the sarcastic part of him dryly suggesting that this wasn't necessarily because SNLF officers were such brave men).

"Oh,", the voice of Ayanami said behind him, sounding slightly breathless, "Hm. That will not do."

Shinji opened his mouth to ask exactly what wouldn't do, but then he noted that the light shining in front of the Evangelion, which had kept the enemy's relentless beam at bay for minutes now, was flicking and shifting slightly.

"Ayanami?", he all but shouted. Then, the beam broke through the armor and slammed into the lower part of the Evangelion. The cockpit was illuminated from below, almost as if it was day, and then, impossibly, the Hiryu made a leap upwards, away from that horrifying beam, which would have no doubt cut the Evangelion in two. Shinji blinked for a moment, before another explosion shook the Unit. Looking straight down from the harness, he almost screamed again, as he could clearly see the sea below them. The beam had ripped both legs clean off the unit - a few meters higher and it would have set off the fuel storage, no doubt bringing this episode to a fulminant finale.

The Hiryu settled on its descent again, though it was slightly slower now. Ayanami seemed to have the armor of light back under control, though Shinji noted that one of the sounds he could hear of the growing noise of shells exploding around the enemy was, indeed, Ayanami's strained breathing. Whatever she was doing to keep the armor from failing was tiring her out tremendously. Then again, they were rather high, and Ayanami had never given Shinji the impression of an overly fit or even normally healthy person. Which made it even stranger that she would be chosen to operate such an important piece of machinery, but that, he decided, was a consideration for another time - in the unlikely case that they survived.

The Hiryu was now running at its full speed, eating up the distance towards the enemy at a frightening pace. Her descent had picked up again, but to Shinji's surprise, she had actually managed to reach land, crossing the coast line at a height that he guessed was a little over 100 meters. However, instead of thanking their fortunes and preparing to set down the Zeppelin in a location that would allow the crew to escape, the Captain of the Hiryu kept her on course towards the enemy.

At this point, Shinji suddenly came to realize that he might, after all, still be expected to engage the enemy. The situation gave little room for any thought out battle plan, and he could only resolve to try and do as much damage as possible - as per the Captain's orders. Moments later, the ruined remains of the Hiryu's bow smashed against the enemy's own armor of light, but it appeared that its beam weapon had fallen silent. Apparently, they were finally under its guns, where its weapons could not reach them anymore.

"So,", Ayanami said from behind, sounding like she had just - barely - passed the 5 kilometer run that was part of the Imperial Navy's fitness requirement, "a battle of wills, is it? And this is all?"

Shinji could only make a somewhat confused sound.

"Remember, for in order to touch, you must allow yourself to be touched", Ayanami panted, and Shinji seriously started to wonder if one of the explosions had given him - or Captain Ayanami - a concussion, because one of them wasn't making sense. He somewhat haughtily decided that it had to be the Captain, based purely on precedence.

Curiously, as Ayanami spoke these words, the enemy's armor flickered and died, allowing the Hiryu to shove herself - and the Evangelion - through the armor, to promptly crash against the enemy itself. The Evangelion followed suite moments later, the impact driving the air out of Shinji's lungs. His head crashed against the front armor of the Evangelion, and for a moment, the world turned rather blurry around the edges.

"I am finished," Ayanami croaked, sounding quite the part, followed by a quiet "Goodbye.", that was almost lost in the turmoil.

Shinji tried to bring the world back into focus - to lose consciousness now would mean disaster, and would be terribly embarrassing as well. He pressed the key to start the engine, and to his relief it had apparently survived intact, as it started up on the first attempt. Immediately, the rigid harness turned a lot more flexible, allowing him to move his body somewhat for the first time in over two hours. After a few hesitant movements, he decided that at least the arms and upper body of the Evangelion was still in a fighting condition, which was really the best that they could hope for, all things considered.

"Captain?", he asked in the general direction of the rear cockpit, but Ayanami remained silent. He tried to look behind him, but the combination of the harness and the giant red orb that had been installed between them made it impossible to see the Captain.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around as best he could to assess the situation. The Hiryu had crashed itself against the upper end of the enemy machine and was now only a mass of glowing steel and half-molten aluminum, barely discernible as something that used to be a Zeppelin. The wreckage was slowly sliding down the enemy's side, tumbling over the edge towards the ground below. With a start, Shinji realized that the Evangelion was still tied to its former carrier, and that it was about to be dragged down with it. He willed the maimed body of his war machine into motion, grabbing the chains that tied it to the horrible mess that had once been the Hiryu's cabin with its left arm. A push of the right button made the blade installed under it slide out and cut through them - Lieutenant Hyuga had taken pains to make sure he was aware of this possibility, should the Hiryu be unable to cut them loose for whatever reason.

This, however, did not immediately solve his problem, as the Evangelion itself started to slide down as well. Instinctively, Shinji tried to move his legs to stabilize himself and the Evangelion, trying to find purchase, before he remembered that the Evangelion's legs hadn't been working for weeks now and that they had been lost over the Bay anyway, a revelation that did not improve his opinion of Ryouji's battle plan in the slightest. He stabbed the armblade into the mass of what he had until that moment considered a machine sent by a hostile nation, but which immediately revealed itself to be made of flesh and, more noticeably, blood. Lots and lots of blood, apparently kept under high pressure, for it was not so much gushing out of the wound as it was spraying everywhere, painting the side of the monster red and making it even slicker than before.

The blade, being made to cut through naval grade armor, did little to stabilize the Evangelion, though it did slow its slide down somewhat. Shinji grabbed for the Lance, which had been lashed to the Evangelion's back, and after an almost endless period of searching - which wasn't helped by the fact that he could only hope that his groping hand would bump into the lance, since he could neither look down the Evangelion's back nor really feel around - took hold of it, tore it from its restraints (sparing a second to contemplate what would have been if they had lost it over the Bay) and rammed it into the monster.

The effect was immediate - like the first time he had used it on the monster that had attacked Tokyo some six weeks ago, it let out a terrible howl of anguish and terror (not that Shinji was an expert on interpreting the screams of giant monsters), and the beams it fired seemed to grow more erratic, firing up into the night sky at odd angles, passing close enough by the Evangelion to light up the cockpit again and blind Shinji for short moments. Obviously, the monster had stopped caring about the other attackers that were little more than harassments, and now tried to hit the Evangelion with its beam weapon. Fortunately for Shinji, the attacker's size worked against it in this instance, shielding him from the destructive beams.

Hanging from both its weapons against the flank of the beast, Shinji allowed himself a few seconds to think - seconds only because the fuel gauge was running down at a frightening pace, and the gauge for the hydraulic pressure clearly showed that the attack that had cost the Evangelion its legs had destroyed a few of the plugs Hyuga's men had installed to keep the hydraulic fluid out of the legs (where it wouldn't be needed), as well.

The fact that the thing he was now fighting was alive had its advantages, he realized. If it had been a machine, he would have needed to do enough damage to destroy its most vital functions, a task which may well have been impossible in the time the Evangelion had left, especially since he would have no idea where to attack first. It was an obvious conclusion that this monster would - for all its physical differences - probably have one of these red orbs he had observed on its predecessors, and that destroying this orb would probably disable or kill it. Instead of digging through the mechanical guts of a giant machine in the hopes of finding the one key component that would shut it down, he would now be forced to dig through very real guts of a giant monster in order to find the one body part he knew would end it.

He sighed at this realization. It was only a small advantage, after all. One might even call it tiny, or contest that it existed in the first place. There was, after all, only so much space he could cut in the time he had, before Unit 1 would inevitably run out of fuel and be forced to shut down. For a moment, he was overtaken by frustration that this monster was not wearing its orb on the outside like the others, which he found was a very cheap and downright dishonorable move. The fact that the Evangelion's own red orb was safely hidden inside its head was, he decided, a completely different matter.

"Brother...", a voice moaned from the rear cockpit - a voice that shared something with the voice of Captain Ayanami, but sounded not quite like her, if such a thing was possible. Shinji decided not to dwell on it, as he had different things to think about, mostly pertaining to the monster they were still clinging to.

"Brother...", the voice from the rear said again, "Brother, I am here!"

Ignoring the shout from the backseat, Shinji tore the lance free from the monster's flesh, creating another fountain of blood. Immediately, the Evangelion started to slide down the enemy's side, the armblade cutting a deep gash into its body. A few dozen meters further down, Shinji stabbed the lance back into the monster, and with a howl of anguish from its enemy, the Evangelion came to a stop once more, now only a short way from the edge.

While there was no doubt in his mind that this decision had done great damage to the enemy (as was obvious from the small river of blood that was now running down the side of the monster), it had not brought him any closer to finding and destroying its orb. In fact, had he been asked at that very moment, Shinji would have found it difficult to say exactly why he had decided that this had been a good idea. Intuition, perhaps, or experience, or perhaps just the conclusion that it was never wrong to cut an enemy if one could do so. Either way, the Evangelion was now at the monsters middle, furthest from its center (where Shinji - based on experience and a healthy dose of pessimism - expected the orb to be), and Shinji began to wonder if it had not been a temporal bout of insanity that had driven him to make this move.

In the very moment he feared that he had thrown away their last chance of victory, the monster stirred. Its flesh shifted, boiling and bubbling around the long wound the Evangelion had torn into it. Shinji found himself painfully reminded of the first attacker, which had healed his injuries in much the same way. The rift he had created in the monsters body closed visibly, but there was something more. When the disgusting sight of flesh and blood twisting into new shapes disappeared, Shinji found himself staring at a curious red and shiny surface. When light started to shine from within the monster's body, Shinji came to a terrifying realization - he was, in fact, looking at the orb he had been looking for. This orb, also, created the beams that had wrought such havoc on the attacking forces. And there was no way for him to move away, nowhere to find cover or shelter.

"Now, brother!", a voice that most definitely did not belong to Captain Ayanami shrieked from the rear cockpit, "Strike him down!"

Shinji's stomach felt cold as ice, a giant hand seemed to have taken hold of his heart and lungs, preventing him from breathing. All his thoughts ran in the same direction - that this was it. After all these fights, all the years of training for battle, all the narrow escapes in the last few battles, not to mention the ones in this one, that this was now the moment that his luck had run out, and that this would be his end.

Most people did not spend much time dwelling on their own mortality. Shinji was no exception to this, and had always pushed thoughts of his own death far away. This human trait did have the unfortunate consequence that sometimes, the realization of the inevitability of ones death could hit rather hard, specifically when it came as somewhat of a surprise, as had happened to Shinji.

Instincts, however, where not bound by fear, and Shinji's lower drives made a last ditch effort to save him. It was not a very sophisticated plan, as it only involved recoiling in horror, but it did drag free the lance from the monster's body. This resulted in the Evangelion dropping slowly, and this, in turn, shot through the turmoil that was Shinji's mind. Amidst the chaos, the terror and the desire to run and hide, a cold and calculating part of his mind came up with something of a plan.

It had always fascinated Shinji to read about past wars, and he had often wondered why the loser of these wars would fight on, long after it had been obvious that he would lose (or at least, long after the point from which the historian could plausibly show that he would lose). Had he possessed the presence of mind and the time to reflect on his situation, he would have been able to answer his question - it was because in such desperate situations, which were commonplace in war, the human mind was more than willing to entertain even the most irrational hope of victory.

And so, from within the maelstrom in his head, he grasped on the one tiny straw his mind provided him. Hanging from one arm, its blade sunk deep into the monster's flesh, the Evangelion threw back the other arm, which held the Lance. The orb in front of it glowed brighter and brighter (only seconds had passed since the enemy had decided to expose it), and Shinji willed, half mad with fear, the arm with the lance forward, to stab at the enemy. It was not a gesture of defiance, not a last curse of a beaten enemy. It was, quite frankly, the last lashing out of a cornered and wounded animal. And as the Lance smashed into the orb, the beam fired, deflected only slightly by it.

No armor was there to stop it, no shining field to deflect it. Its terrible light filled the cockpit, blinding Shinji. Incapable of seeing anything, he first felt the harness dig painfully into his right arm, wrenching it this way and that, indicating that the Evangelion's equivalent was suffering terrible damage. Shinji screamed in pain as he felt his shoulder snap out of its joint. Then the light flickered and died, leaving only darkness behind.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Temporary Combat Headquarters_  
_ overlooking Tokyo Bay_  
_August 2, 1915, about half an hour after midnight_

After the cacophony of battle, the silence which fell after it seemed unnatural. It had only been a short exchange, but it had still changed the view from the small hill quite dramatically. When the battle began, the horizon had been in complete darkness. Now, it was red in all directions, from the fire the Angel had started in its rampage against the armies of Japan. Even on the water of the Bay, dozens of smaller fires burned, where aircraft, which had been damaged during their attack run, had crashed after flying past the Angel. Within half an hour, the peaceful scenery had been turned into a hellish landscape of smoke and fire. All around them, explosions echoed from the hills as the fires set off what ammunition they found, and from time to time star shells flew across the sky in odd patterns.

Gendo's mind had followed a similar path, from the odd peace and quiet right before battle, through moments of sheer and utter terror and despair, to a feeling of numb horror at the result of the battle. There was nothing as terrible as a battle won, the saying went, except perhaps for a battle lost. Even if the small hill they were on had been spared the worst - the only casualty having been a plane that crashed nearby and was now burning merrily - messages from all the involved units were pouring in, at least from those that still existed. They had yet to hear from a large number, and the location of a lot of them corresponded well with the directions in which fires could be seen. Some of them would obviously still exist, and were only out of communication because a wire had been cut or because they had better things to do than answering the phone.

Fuyutsuki, meanwhile, was marshaling the forces, already organizing large field hospitals to be sent from units that hadn't been involved in this battle and calling on the surviving Zeppelins to tell them how the situation looked beyond the mountains, where they could not see. It might seem cold to some, to be able to go on to do ones job after such a violent battle, but Gendo was very grateful for his subordinate to have the presence of mind to do so.

Even now, after seeing the Angel fall, the sight of the Hiryu, on fire and slowly falling to the ground, was seared into his mind, repeating time and time again. They had watched the battle through their binoculars as best they could - the flashes from the explosions and from the Angel, together with the smoke thrown up by the battle had made it very difficult - but even they had seen that the last beam had been fired at the Evangelion from point blank range. They had seen in what state it had been in, its legs missing, hanging rather helplessly from the Angel's body like a bug.

Perhaps, he thought, this was the best comparison. Against the powers they were fighting, the individual human was just an insignificant insect. Certainly, these insects had, to date, killed three of the most dangerous monsters to ever roam the earth, but at what cost? Tokyo was but a wasteland, now even more so. The barrage, given its intensity, had leveled entire streets, even though most shells had hit their intended target. Thousands had died fighting these monsters, and even more had been wounded. The Imperial Navy had lost several warships, dozens of airplanes and a few irreplaceable Zeppelins.

Gendo hoped that the reinforcements from Germany would arrive soon, for there was no doubt that they had won their last victory for some time. He well remembered the words of the Greek king Pyrrhus, made on a similar battlefield - that another of these victories would mean their defeat. The last battles had simply been far too costly in terms of men and material to be able to fight yet another Angel. And unfortunately, experience showed that another such attack was very likely in the next few weeks. It was a small favor, that the Angels had apparently not yet mastered the art of strategy - if they were even able to do so - and attacked one after the other, with just enough time in between to scrap together a defense force.

"I have to say, Ikari,", Admiral Kataoka said, "there were a few moments when I thought that we might fail."

Gendo couldn't help but agree with him. It had been a battle that had gone as wrong as it could possibly go, and yet still, they had managed to grasp victory from the very jaws of defeat. It was, all things considered, perhaps somewhat arrogant to say that 'they' had achieved victory - after all, their brilliant plan of battle had failed rather spectacularly, leaving the crew of the Hiryu to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for them. And, of course, the crew of the Evangelion - Shinji had certainly...

Shinji had...

Shinji.

"Quite so Sir.", Gendo said suddenly, turning and waving Captain Ryouji over to them.

"If the Admiral does not mind, I will now inspect the battlefield. You will have my preliminary report by tomorrow evening.", he said and saluted.

"Very good Ikari. I appreciate your effort.", Kataoka answered. There was little doubt that there would be an edited version of the report released to the press, which would no doubt point out Kataoka's numerous contributions to this important victory in great detail. But that was only something more to keep the Admiral out of his hair and at least benevolent towards him. Perhaps, Gendo mused as he sent Ryouji to fetch a staff car for them, having the old man as the minister for war might actually work in his favor.

Ryouji seemed to conjure a car almost from thin air, and moments later they were speeding through the city towards the former battlefield, only occasionally slowed down by crazed horses, originally belonging to artillery units and driven mad by the battle, which were sometimes just standing on the road and refusing to move. Several times, the only solution was to relieve the poor creature from its suffering.

Eventually, however, they did reach the site where man and beast had fought. It was still an imposing sight, the Angel easily dwarfing anything in the city, larger still than the biggest ship in the Imperial Navy, its true dimensions not even entirely seen in the dark. Around it, the ground had turned into a form of mud that shone red in the headlights. The smell of hot blood, instantly recognizable to anyone who had ever smelled it, hung heavy in the air. The Angel had fallen on one of its sides, its upper point pointing into the night sky at an angle. And next to it, like a dying man who had sought shelter from the elements before he passed out, lay the Evangelion.

It was in a terrible shape, its legs looking like they had been melted off, its right arm missing, the entire front and much of the left arm covered in blood. Ryouji mumbled something to the effect that Lieutenant Hyuga would not be pleased by this, but Gendo was hardly listening to him. Making his way over to the fallen form, he deeply dreaded what he would find in the cockpit. It seemed quite intact, but he remembered what even a small hit had done to the pilot - to Shinji - in the battle against the first Angel. As he rounded the Evangelion, his worst fears seemed to come true, as he was now looking into a gaping hole where the right side had been. The battle had not just cost the Evangelion the right arm and both legs, but the entire shoulder and parts of the head as well, obviously destroyed by the Angel's beam weapon.

"Admiral?", Ryouji called out, and as Gendo looked over, pointed towards the bay. Gendo could see a small figure sitting there, looking across the dark waters, illuminated from time to time by a wild star shell streaking across the sky, ignited by the raging fires or fired by relief forces to give them light to work by. Gendo carefully made his way over, coming to a stop a few steps behind the figure. He wore the uniform of the Imperial Navy, with the insignias of an ensign, so it had to be Shinji who was sitting there. Gendo noticed that one of the uniform sleeves, the right one, hung limply from the shoulder.

A moment passed in silence between them, before Shinji suddenly looked up, and then seemed to notice the idling staff car waiting close by. He looked around and saw Gendo, silhouetted against the burning horizon. After another moment, he seemed to remember where and who he was, as he warily pushed himself to his feet. His left arm was holding onto the right, which he had taken out of the uniform and had been cradling in his lap. On reflex, he moved his arm to salute, obviously causing him great pain, as his face screwed up and he hissed something that might have been a curse - something Gendo had never heard him do before. He waved his son's attempt away.

"I see you survived.", Gendo said, and somehow, the part of his mind that had the annoying habit of using Yui's voice (mostly to be his bad conscience) managed to make its displeasure known by glaring silently at him. How, precisely, a mental construct could glare silently, he did not know, and he found that he did not want to dwell on it too much, at least not now. It was, frankly, a very cold thing to say, but he had long since resolved not to show any unwarranted kindness to Shinji, which was really the only way that their working relationship could survive. The slightest hint of favoritism would see Shinji removed from the First Home Defense Fleet, and, more importantly, from piloting the Evangelion. The cockpit of Unit 1 being exactly where he needed Shinji, whatever kind of bond remained between them after all those years apart had to be sacrificed. At least until the current crisis was over and the Angels defeated.

"Sir.", Shinji said in response.

"What about Captain Ayanami?", Gendo asked, and even he thought that it had sounded, perhaps, a bit too cold.

Shinji pointed back at the wreck of the Evangelion with his good arm.

"She survived as well, but apparently she was overwhelmed by the battle. She fell asleep right there, and, Sir...she seemed rather odd during the battle as well."

"I see." Gendo said. "Well, it was to be expected, since it was her first battle. Go with Captain Ryouji and get your arm looked after. I expect your full report by tomorrow evening."

"Sir!", Shinji exclaimed, coming to attention as best he could.

Gendo turned and walked back towards the Evangelion, while Shinji started for the staff car.

"Sir,", his voice called after Gendo, sounding oddly curious, "she called out for her brother."

Gendo, stepping into the darkness under the fallen form of the Angel, said nothing.

He had, after all, expected it. 

**A/N:** And so ends the fourth chapter. Apologies for taking so long, I do hope that this chapter has been worth the wait (but if you read this, it probably has). As always, criticism is very much welcome. The review button is right down here. Leave one if you liked the chapter, make sure to leave one if you didn't.


	5. Chapter 5

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hospital _  
_Tokyo _  
_August 2, 1915, 2 hours after midnight_

The sense of detachment inside the Evangelion, as it had drifted far above the battlefield during the initial clash between the Japanese forces and the monster had kept Shinji from noticing the amount of carnage that had been inflicted. Certainly, after the battle had been won - for the lack of a better term - and after he had freed himself from the remains of the control harness and had stepped outside, he had seen the horizon all around them on fire, showing clearly that a great battle had taken place. But that had been a realization more on the level of an intellectual exercise.

Here, in the Hospital at the base, it was something quite different. Something screaming at the top of its lungs, something smelling disgustingly like cooked meat, something that, at some point, had been human just like him and which was now missing both of its legs and much of its skin.

Captain Ryouji gently guided him past the creature that was lying on the bed in the corridor. Moans came from some of the rooms which they passed on their way, screams from others, others still were utterly silent. A medical orderly passed them, carrying a human arm in one hand as if it was a piece of wood.

Shinji kept his eyes down on the floor after that. Ryouji didn't seem to have any problems with it, however, expertly guiding him around any obstacles in their way. Shinji felt the shame burning in his face over it.

After a long journey through the hospital, they finally arrived at their destination, and Shinji looked up. With some irritation he saw the name on the door indicating that this was the office of one Doctor Ikari. He wanted to ask the Captain to find them another doctor - surely Ritsuko had to be very busy in this situation - but Ryouji had already knocked. To his even greater consternation, they found Ritsuko sitting calmly in her office with a cup of coffee, and had she not been wearing a blood splattered apron, Shinji might have forgotten his good manners.

As it stood, he suddenly felt slightly ill, seeing how there was an unmistakable bone saw lying on a table nearby. He clutched his right arm a little tighter.

"Sorry to bother you, doctor," the Captain began, "but I thought you might want to handle this one yourself."

Shinji was just about to comment that the one being handled did not really want to be handled by her, but was interrupted by the woman.

"Where did he get hurt?", she asked, exhaustion evident in her voice, "If its shrapnel again, he will have to wait until tomorrow...", she continued, and to Shinji's horror, reached for the bone saw.

"Oh, it is just a few scratches this time," Ryouji said, "And the harness dislocated his arm."

"Oh," Ritsuko made, and put down the saw. Shinji was, at that moment, almost sure it was a sound of disappointment. "Well, that is easily fixed, then. Take off your uniform."

With some help from the Captain - it was rather difficult to do it one handed - Shinji managed to get off his uniform jacket. At once, Ritsuko seized his shoulder and squeezed.

"Does that hurt?"

Shinji hissed in response, and briefly wondered if all doctors were honor bound to be sadists, or if it was just a coincidence.

"You know, it would be much easier if I got a clear 'Yes, doctor' or 'No, doctor' from you. Worse than your father, really.", Ritsuko went on.

"Yes, doctor." Shinji said, and behind Ritsuko, Captain Ryouji raised an eyebrow at him. Perhaps it was the disgust he had put into the word doctor, but Shinji found himself far too tired to really care. Manners, he decided, were not high on his priority list tonight.

"See, now that was easy. Does this hurt?", she said and squeezed another part of his arm.

Somehow, Shinji managed to force another "Yes, doctor." through his tightly clenched teeth.

Apparently satisfied with this, Ritsuko firmly grasped his arm and did...something with it - Shinji was neither sure of what she did, nor did he really care, since the world turned rather blurry from the pain for a moment, and for a moment he felt bile rise in his throat - and then released him.

"I reset the joint. You will have to wear the arm in a sling for the next few days, however. And I want to see you again in two days to see how it goes.", Ritsuko said, while she rummaged around a drawer for something, before handing him a sling. Shinji carefully put his arm into it.

"You can stay here for the night.", she offered, but as soon as she had ended, Shinji had all but stormed out the door. As he reached the end of the corridor, he slowed down for Captain Ryouji, who had started after him, to catch up - and because, he found, walking at such a quick pace was quite a bit more exhausting than he had thought. He found himself standing next to a bed, on which a body was lying that someone had thoughtfully covered with a sheet. A moment later, he realized that it was the same bed - and the same body - he had seen earlier.

When he noticed Ryouji standing next to him, he could not keep himself from asking the obvious. "Why did she not save him?"

After a moment, Ryouji quietly replied, "She once told me that the first thing they taught her in medical school was to save those she could and to ignore the ones she couldn't. The second thing was recognizing which ones were which." He put a hand on Shinji's should, and dragged him away from the corpse. "I can guess what you are thinking, Ikari, but trust me that things are not always that simple."

Shinji, for his part, found that a rather weak excuse. But then again, he decided, perhaps he had expected a bit too much from that woman.

As they left the hospital, he noted a tall figure in a somewhat dirty Admiral's uniform, carrying a bundle wrapped in a uniform of the Naval Support Service. The mop of blue hair that was sticking out on one end identified the pair - apparently, his father had decided to carry Captain Ayanami here rather than send for an ambulance.

As they passed each other, neither acknowledged the other.

_Embassy of the German Empire to the Hindu Republic of India_  
_ Mumbai, India_  
_ August 3, 1915, midday_

"LARGE BATTLE FOUGHT OVER TOKYO STOP JAPANESE FORCES HAVE TAKEN HEAVY CASUALTIES STOP MAKE ALL POSSIBLE HASTE OKM", the despatch in her hand said, and Asuka could not help but feel slightly vindicated by it. If they had gone with her plan, they could have easily made it in time for this battle, and most likely would have finished it without a single loss to their side.

Sitting in Mumbai was even more frustrating than it should be - they had been billeted in the ambassador's villa, which was almost up to standard given the situation, and soldiers shouldn't complain too much anyway. After all, it had been the refueling in India which had been called a fatal flaw in her plan to ship the Evangelion by Zeppelin. But trust the navy to lose two colliers in a small scale encounter with renegade Royal Navy ships near Yemen - claiming to be regular forces of some sort of British Empire of Greater Arabia, which no one had ever heard of before - forcing them to take coals here in Mumbai. And cool their collective heels, since it was taking, in Asuka's very humble opinion, a frankly ridiculous amount of time. At the rate the Japanese were going through battles, their war would be over before she even got there (and considering what the newspapers were claiming, they might even lose). Of course, once she did get there, the war would be as good as over anyway.

In the fractured political landscape of the Indian subcontinent, the Hindu Republic was but a very small entity, and generally tried to keep out of the perpetual wars raging between the various pretenders to the throne of the British Empire. This made her pretty much the only candidate for them to approach for coaling - since anything else would have been seen as a German intervention into the set of wars that were already collectively called The War of British Succession (which some claimed was rather misleading, since, with the British isles under water, there wasn't actually a throne to succeed to, but when had such things ever bothered anyone who wanted to make war on one of his neighbors). It also, unfortunately, meant that there wasn't actually enough coal for them to make good their loses, and so they were bound to sit and wait while local merchants tried to acquire more from sources further inland.

Needless to say, the German Ambassador had been more than happy to see them, claiming (quite rightly, in Asuka's opinion) that their visit, unannounced as it may be, would help a great deal with the diplomatic relations between their two nations, not least because even a rumor that Germany might consider the Hindu Republic in its sphere of influence would go a long way to ensuring its independence and was therefore very much welcome by the republican government.

Privately, the Ambassador had explained that such a show of force may very well be the first step to actually bring the Republic to a closer alignment with Germany, and having a foothold on the subcontinent, while denying it to France (whose more egalitarian policies and general republicanism probably made it more popular with the Indians), would tip the balance of power in this area in the German favor. Consequently, Asuka had brought her Evangelion to the shore and run it through a set of maneuvers in front of some Hindu officers, who had been sufficiently impressed by it. It was somewhat of a pity that the Republic couldn't afford to buy any Evangelions, but Asuka had some doubts whether Indians were actually able to operate such complex machinery anyway.

Vindication, however, did nothing to hasten their journey, so Asuka tried not to look too smug around the Admiral commanding the fleet, which wasn't too hard since the feeling of uselessness far outstripped the smugness of being right. And except for her little presentation, there was nothing for her to do. She had finished a letter to her uncle yesterday, so there was little sense in writing another one - what was there to write about? 'It is still very warm, there are still no coals, Manfred still has the runs from the local food.'? The poor man had taken the offer of some local cavalry officers for dinner at their base, and was now commuting between his bunk and the toilet in short intervals. Apparently, two weeks of ship biscuit did little to prepare a man's stomach for Indian cuisine. She had, of course, paid him a visit and had heaped some sympathy on him, which he had, as planned, called entirely misplaced as it was really not nearly as bad as it looked - right before he had bolted for the toilet again.

Asuka, for her part, had decided to stick with the ship's biscuit. After all, one of them had to be able to pilot the Evangelion in an emergency, and she really did not want to try doing so in a condition similar to Manfred's.

She spotted the Captain of the battleship Friedrich der Grosse, the flagship of the newly created Pacific Squadron of the German High Seas Fleet, and immediately waved him down. She tried her hardest to keep her face from showing glee, but still, the frown on the Captain's face might well have been caused by her smile being just a tad too far towards being a grin. The Captain himself looked none too happy, and when she raised the note in her hand to show it to him, he made a gesture that he had read it already.

"So,", Asuka began after the Captain had taken a seat on the table next to her, "I take it we will ship out soon?"

"I was just about to discuss it with the Admiral.", the Captain answered, "he was thinking about going to Australia to get some coals there."

"Australia!", Asuka found herself exclaiming before settling down somewhat. "But that would mean weeks of delay just going there. No, Sir, you must intervene here, we must go to Japan immediately to join the fight.". After a short pause, where she noted the Captain's look of polite skepticism, she added "They need me, that is, they need our Evangelion. It is important. Very important."

This did little to convince the Captain, who's other eyebrow joined the first in being raised in silent question.

"Is there no other way to get coals on the way? Surely the pirates in the area must get get them from somewhere."

"Certainly,", the Captain admitted, before adding dryly, "they steal them from ships that are too slow to escape them."

"Ah,", Asuka made, and decided that suggesting they get them from the same source was perhaps not quite the way to get the Admiral to move out sooner.

"Well," she said after thinking about it for a moment, "We could always steal it back. My Evangelion can easily take out anything the pirates could have." It was, now that she thought about it, a downright brilliant idea.

"I'm supposed to get you to Japan in one piece," a voice said from behind her, indicating that the Admiral had finished whatever business he had had with the Ambassador, "not get the Evangelion destroyed somewhere in the East Indies, or lose anymore ships in needless action."

Asuka snorted at this, but managed to turn it into a cough before she could be seen as too disrespectful. "With due respect Sir, you seem not to be aware of the Evangelion's abilities. Assuming I was to make an assault on a pirate's base, I would take the Evangelion in by sea, walking on the sea ground, and hit them at dawn, take them by surprise and defeat them before they can organize. There is literally no danger for your ships involved."

She didn't comment on the ridiculous notion that some Malayan pirates could seriously harm the Evangelion, which was build to take on entire fortresses and win.

"And you are certain of that?", the Admiral asked, his skepticism clearly audible, "Without having any idea just what these pirates have in store?"

"Frankly, Admiral,", the Captain interjected, "I am afraid our orders leave us little choice in that matter."

Asuka helpfully handed over the despatch. The Admiral's eyes flew over it, and his face darkened perceptively. He cursed out loud, then crumbled the paper and threw it away.

Sparing a last glance at Asuka, he left towards the harbor, the Captain following closely behind. Asuka, for her part, fought hard to keep a grin off her face, but found the fight ultimately unwinnable. Finally, she was getting a chance to show the world how an Evangelion was supposed to be used. And she would show them. She would show them all.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Office of the Officer in Charge of Operations_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ August 4, 1915, midday_

An older cadet had once told Shinji that being in the Navy meant long hours of sheer and utter boredom, with occasional moments of sheer and utter terror. What he should have said was that being an officer in His Majesty's Imperial Japanese Navy meant long hours of paperwork, which were really something in between. Considering the amount of time spent on teaching him to navigate a ship through the seas and through battles, which he may or may not do at some point in his career, Shinji found himself wishing the Academy had focused, at least a little bit, on teaching other valuable skills for the daily life in the Navy.

Such as writing with the left hand.

Captain Ryouji had, apparently, decided that the best way for him to recover would be to help with the paperwork. Besides his official report on the battle, he was also supposed to fill out the requests for the disturbing amount of spare parts. The equally disturbing smile that Lieutenant Hyuga had worn when he had dropped off his preliminary repair estimation had told Shinji that the Lieutenant, at least, considered it a just punishment for turning the Evangelion from a large wreck into a smaller one. Given that the spare parts they (or better, he) had ordered weeks ago had not arrived yet (and wouldn't arrive until the Germans came), he was more inclined towards the Lieutenant's opinion.

He scratched out another few characters and finished up the form. Then he rose from his desk and went over to the office of Captain Ryouji. He knocked, and entered after Ryouji called him in.

The stack of papers on the Captain's desk was quite a bit smaller than the one Shinji had to work with, but then again Ryouji tended to load off some of what went to his desk to Shinji's, claiming that processing this particular piece of paperwork would build Shinji's character and help him greatly in his career in the Imperial Navy. But then again, Shinji mused while Ryouji kept him waiting in the office in a time-honored ritual of higher ranking officers, perhaps it was the generally chaotic state of the Captain's desk that made the stack seem smaller. Shinji kept his desk as neat as humanly possible, with one stack of forms yet to be processed, on the left, the piece he was writing on, in the middle, and the (always depressingly small) stack of finished work on the right. Ryouji, on the other hand, seemed to subscribe to the policy that all war was chaos and that all aspects of the military should correspond to that - scattered around the work area were maps of the greater Tokyo area, folders and files that Shinji was pretty sure he wasn't actually allowed to see, several dictionaries, empty rice bowls and mugs that looked like they had once contained coffee, with the stack of paperwork to be processed rising over the mayhem like a giant beast over Tokyo, dwarfing its own little city made from paper and dishes.

He blinked when the Captain called his name. Shinji wordlessly held out the form. Ryouji studied his face for a long moment, a frown open on his features. Belatedly, Shinji realized that the Captain might have called his name several times, while he had been busy drifting of. He felt his face flush with embarrassment, and looked away.

"Trouble sleeping, Ikari?", Ryouji asked while he scanned the document, no doubt trying to make sense of the abominations that were supposed to resemble Japanese characters. "She must be very pretty, to keep you awake like this. Maybe you could introduce me sometime."

As far as Shinji was concerned, 'she' referred to a giant cube made out of flesh that fired beams of light to destroy everything in reach, and like 'her' predecessors - and in fact, sometimes together with them - 'she' had featured rather prominently in his mind when he was trying to sleep. Not that Captain Ryouji needed to know that. 'Battle fright' killed careers in the Imperial Navy very quickly, and it would not do to end his own so quickly, and for such a reason. Being branded a coward, on the first combat assignment no less, was the worst nightmare for any Naval Ensign, and Shinji was no exception, even if that particular nightmare had gotten stiff competition in the last few weeks. His little breakdown before the battle had no doubt already made an impression on his superior, and Shinji had no intention of building on that.

"I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you, Sir, for there is no girl.", he said, before his tired mind realized that keeping the Captain in that opinion might have been for the better.

"Ah", the Captain made, and his smile widened disturbingly, "you're not telling me that you are following that particular navy tradition...?"

Shinji felt his face becoming rather heated at this allegation, and for a second the red hot thought flashed through his mind to demand satisfaction for it. Dueling was technically banned in the Imperial Navy, and officers found violating it could face a court martial. They needed every single one of them, the reasoning went, and could not afford to lose people to archaic ideals of honor. However, since there was no formalized training with the obligatory sword many officers carried - the Navy believed that if the enemy was close enough to hit with a sword, the officer in question had already made a good many mistakes, and that any training time was better spent on helping him prevent such mistakes - a lot of semi-official sword schools had opened up that taught various styles, and were usually located near bases. Ironically, spending time training like this was actually encouraged, as it was seen as strengthening the body and the spirit. In effect, it meant that two officers, provided they had swords, could easily meet in one of these schools and have a 'sparring match'. And even if one was very careful in these circumstances, accidents did happen.

However, Shinji quickly decided that challenging an SNLF officer with two fully functional arms and quite a bit of combat experience for a duel over a silly joke would probably be a bad idea. Still, the jibe rankled, like it would for any naval officer. Given that the Imperial Navy was a little over 50 years old, Shinji could only assume that this idea had also been taken over from the British, on which the Navy had been modeled. Japan, he decided, should really take greater care when importing things.

"Afraid not, Sir.", Shinji said, and tried to make the last word sound particularly angered.

"Very well", Ryouji said, and put the paper down, "where do I have to sign?"

Shinji wordlessly pointed to the field clearly marked 'Signature of requesting officer', and Ryouji slowly and painstakingly wrote his name in it. Apparently, Shinji realized, he was not the only one having trouble sleeping, and he had his doubts that it was Mrs. Ryouji that kept his superior up at night.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Office of the Executive Officer_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ August 6, late evening_

One might assume that officers above a certain rank were exempt from doing menial work, and one would not be entirely mistaken. After all, they had an extensive staff set up for just this purpose, which should, in theory, allow them to focus on making the important decisions. Gendo, however, was an exception to this rule. For one, he was still technically the executive officer of Admiral Kataoka, and that meant there were documents he had to read, and some he had to write, just to keep up appearances. Additionally, he liked to have an idea of what was happening in his command, and the best way to ensure that was to take part in the bureaucracy. Finally, the First Home Defense Fleet had a reputation regarding discipline (low) and following of procedure (barely existent), and that reputation was not entirely unjustified. It was seen as a good place to put people that, for whatever reasons, were best kept away from important commands. Part of Gendo's job was just making sure things actually got done.

He put aside the lengthy report of Unit 1's damaged systems and briefly pondered if he should commend Lieutenant Hyuga for managing to put 'It's a wreck' and 'The pilot should be shot for incompetence' in a somewhat professional wording. One thing was certain, however: Unit 1 would not be combat ready for several weeks at the very least. In fact, calling the hunk of twisted and half-molten metal that sat in their hangar an Evangelion at all was somewhat of a stretch at best. Gendo had already ordered Ryouji to employ special resupply measures - in other words, to lie, cheat and swindle to get them whatever they needed, or outright steal it if necessary. One of the advantages of being an outfit with a reputation like the First Home Defense Fleet was that people didn't really expect anything but the worst from you.

He looked at the next sheet of paper, noting the shoddy handwriting. A glance at the end of the simple letter confirmed his suspicion of its origin. It read, "Recommendation of Ensign Shinji Ikari, His Imperial Majesty's Navy, for the Order of the Golden Kite, 4th class.

Citation:  
On August 1, 1915, Ensign Ikari, pilot of the Imperial Navy Evangelion Unit 1, was ordered to make an assault on an unidentified hostile creature which had taken a commanding position above the ruins of the Imperial Palace. To this purpose, the Evangelion he was piloting was attached to the Zeppelin Hiryu, which was supposed to carry him towards it. During the approach, the Hiryu was attacked and set on fire. His Evangelion suffered further damage as they closed, leading to the loss of both of its legs. Despite this, Ensign Ikari continued with the mission. Upon making contact with the enemy, he broke through its defenses and immediately engaged it in hand to hand combat. The enemy was, at this time, under heavy artillery fire and continuous air attacks, which placed Ensign Ikari's Evangelion and himself in further danger. Within minutes of engaging the enemy, Ensign Ikari had gravely injured and subsequently killed it. His conduct and bravery in battle were in line with the finest traditions of the Imperial Navy and went far beyond what could be expected by mere sense of duty."

Gendo could not help but chuckle at this. It was, he had to admit, fairly true to reality, which was something not all recommendations for bravery could claim. There was also no doubt that Shinji had shown a great deal of bravery and martial skill in this battle, which would have well justified a recommendation for any other soldier, and that precisely was the problem. Or, at least, it was one of the problems with it. Shinji was not just any soldier. He was - through no fault of his own, to be sure - related to Gendo. This made him, as far as Gendo was concerned, uniquely qualified to pilot the Evangelion, as he had no interest in turning over their only weapon against the Angels to someone he did not trust. This, however, meant that he had to make sure that he kept Shinji as the pilot, rather than furthering his career, which such a high decoration - about as high as a junior officer could hope for - would go a great way towards. And that was leaving aside any qualms about favoritism, which would see Shinji removed from his command very quickly indeed.

The other problems were of a more technical nature, such as the fact that - as far as everyone but Gendo and Fuyutsuki were concerned - the Angels were just random sea monsters instead of organized enemies of the state. For all intents and purposes, Shinji had not won a battle against a soldier of an enemy army but against an animal that had run rampant. Which was admirably, no doubt, but not something medals for valor were usually given out for. In fact, doing so might well give rise to speculation that these so called sea monsters were indeed tools of a hostile organization, and be the first step to the secret of the Angel's existence (so to speak) leaking out, which would make a few very powerful people very unhappy.

And lastly, it wasn't like Shinji was expecting a medal. His official report clearly showed that as far as he was concerned, he had done little more than his duty. In fact, he seemed almost certain that he had failed somehow, or at least had not done all that was expected of him. In Gendo's opinion, he had done exactly what was expected of him - kill the Angel. Which, all things considered, was yet another argument against approving this recommendation. There was no such thing as exceeding the call of duty when facing an Angel, and it would perhaps be downright counterproductive to imply so.

But then again, a flat refusal to allow the recommendation to proceed would probably be bad for morale, he decided. Sooner or later, the grapevine would relay the information back to Shinji. Thankfully, bureaucracy offered a way out, and so he wrote 'pending further review' on it and sent it to be put away in Shinji's file, where it would rest until it was no longer relevant, or until he did have a use for it. Paperwork did have its advantages.

_Yasukuni Shrine_  
_ Tokyo_  
_ August 12, 1915, midday_

Shinji had never considered himself particularly religious. Second Impact had been a critical point in most religions in the world, with some of their members questioning what God would inflict such suffering on them (considering that the quickly proclaimed End of the World was apparently delayed for technical reasons), other being even more grateful for their deliverance from the horrors of the post Impact world, and others still proclaiming that if there was a God, He obviously did not care for His people anymore.

Christianity, however, played only a little role in Japan, where Buddhism and Shinto were much stronger, both of which lacked a central divine figure that may have been angered by the humans - though there had been quite a few, even goverment approved, services in Shinto shrines to calm the angered spirits. The Emperor was, after all, the highest Shinto priest and able to trace His heritage back to the sungodess Herself, and if the forces that were ripping the planet apart would listen to anyone, it would be Him.

Nonetheless, the burial of the dead were a deeply religious affair, and the burial of fallen soldiers added politics into the mix. Not that Shinji had ever considered himself particularly interested in politics, either. Despite the fact that the majority of the casualties in the recent battle had been inflicted on the Army, someone had decided that the entire personnel of the First Home Defense Fleet should pay homage to the dead, and that was why they were here today, in full dress regalia. This had initially presented him with somewhat of a problem - he had left his dress uniform back at the academy. Now, they had obviously sent it after him, and after brief but exhausting inquiry with the logistical department, it turned out that they had indeed received a box marked for him, but had decided not to inform him of that fact, for reasons Shinji could only guess. Then, of course, it had turned out that his old dress uniform was somewhat short, but that had been too late to do anything about it. It did, however, mean that he would have to get a new one - thankfully he was still an Ensign, as officers from Lieutenant up were expected to pay for their own uniforms.

Shinji wasn't exactly sure of the religious particulars that the ceremony he was part of was based on, but it appeared to be the equivalent of a mass grave. As was tradition since modern Japan had been created, the people that fell in battle were enshrined here, in Yasukuni Shrine. It gave their families and the people as a whole a place to remember them. The names of everyone who died in Japan's wars abroad were recorded here, and after Second Impact that list had grown a great deal. Technically, people who died in the Home Islands were not supposed to be recorded, and neither were the ones that died outside of wartime, but apparently the powers that were had decided to make an exception. Rumor was that the Emperor Himself had intervened and declared that the soldiers that had died in the recent battle - along with the soldiers that had died in the attacks before that - would be recorded. And one simply didn't tell a distant relative of a goddess 'no'.

Shinji assumed that the people concerned by it did not really care either way. In part because they were dead, but also because at their level, a battle was a battle, and the technicalities that mattered to the leadership mattered little to them. In the final event, they had been ripped from their life by an explosion of sudden violence, and arguing details afterwards seemed rather silly. But then again, the whole procedure was rather silly in this regard. The people that were to be enshrined here had not fought for this honor (Shinji could only speculate about this, of course, but he had certainly not fought for it). Perhaps, he wondered, they were happy that their death had not been in vain, seeing as they had ultimately defeated the monster. But on the other hand, he failed to see what would have gone different had all these other units not been there. After all, the Hiryu had been spotted quite some distance away, and thus the entire deception had been rendered useless. So perhaps they had, all things considered, died in vain.

But then again they might not care about that, either. Speculating about the opinions of dead people, he finally decided, was an exercise in futility, and a certain sign of boredom. His companions next to him certainly did not care for it, nor did they care much for the ceremony they were watching.

"I mean, we were there, right? We totally deserve it.", Suzuhara, seated to the left of Shinji, began for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. In a remarkable feat of military coordination and precision, Shinji and Aida managed to hum a noncommittal response unison. Then again, they had had a lot of training over the last few days, as Suzuhara, stubborn like any prospective SNLF officer, had made his case time and time again.

The problem was, of course, that his roommates were hardly the right institution to bring this particular complaint to.

"The procedures are clear, aren't they? You get deployed to a combat zone, you get a sword. If you don't get one before you go, you get it after you were in combat. That is how it goes, right?", Suzuhara continued, as he had done several times before. His two companions once more answered with coordinated grunting. Any worthy avenue of discussion had long since been abandoned after long and fruitless attempts at convincing Suzuhara to either drop the issue or complain to someone more likely to be able to do something about it.

"It's just that not everyone of us happens to be an Evangelion pilot - no offense Ikari - but we were still in a combat zone. And I think that this should be recognized, that is all I'm saying."

In fact he had been saying it for the last three days, and it started to get ever the slightest bit annoying. Knowing Suzuhara, it would go on for a few more days, a week at most, before he would get over it. Unless something happened to remind him of it. Aida, in the meantime, had found his own way of relieving the boredom of the ceremony. He nudged Shinji in the side and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, "Look out, 80 degrees off the starboard bow." Shinji did his best not to roll his eyes at this. Over entirety of the service, Aida had scanned the crowd for any signs of girls, and had taken no time in pointing them out to Shinji (Suzuhara had made clear that he would have no part in it). While Shinji would normally not mind this at all, he did find it somewhat unfitting behavior for a memorial service. He glanced over to the brown haired girl Aida had pointed out and was somewhat relieved that she was wearing a uniform (as opposed to a mourning dress, which would mean that she had lost a relative), but noted with embarrassment that she was looking over to them and seemed to be frowning.

He could not really fault her for it, given their behavior.

"Well?", Aida said, looking at Shinji with a sly grin. Shinji gave an internal sigh, and, after a brief moment of contemplation, said, "I don't know. She is Army." Aida, for his part, gave an audible, exasperated sigh and hung his head. "True. But you know how it goes...you can't have it all."

Satisfied that he had struck the one answer that satisfied Aida and kept him from pressing further, Shinji leaned back in his seat and tried not to look too bored, since this was usually a good way to get into trouble in the navy. The rest of the funeral passed surprisingly quickly, after he had given up on following it entirely. Between the whining from one side and the leering from the other, it had proven too difficult anyway.

They managed to make their way outside with only two minor delays caused by Aida trying to get a better - or at least, second - look at some of the female attendance. Once outside, they stood around for a few minutes, as all soldiers were wont to do when they thought they could get away with it. It was a beautiful day, entirely inappropriate for a funeral, although it did start to heat up slowly, and the usual small of rotten meat, which had accompanied every monster's death so far, hung over the entire city. They really had to stop doing this in the summer, Shinji decided.

"Excuse me, are you Ikari Shinji?", a female voice asked behind them. Turning around, Shinji was surprised to see the very girl Aida had pointed out to him before, standing at attention. "Ah, yes, Ms. - ", he started, taking a guess with it, since he had never really paid attention to the rank insignias the Army used. If she was saluting him, he was probably senior to her and could address her without her rank.

He strained to read the name tag on her uniform, while trying not to appear to be looking at her chest.

"Kirishima, " she offered with a smile, "Like the Battleship."

"Battlecruiser", Shinji automatically corrected, and would have gone on, if a sharp thrust of Aida's elbow hadn't driven the air out of his lungs.

"There is a difference? I didn't know that.", she said, smile still holding brightly.

"Yes!", Aida exclaimed, while Shinji gathered his breath somewhat, "A battlecruiser has less armor, but a higher speed than a battleship.", Aida finished, while Shinji nodded solemnly.

"Oh, really. Fascinating.", Kirishima said, sparing Aida a glance. "Well, I just wanted to thank you for your service, Lieutenant Ikari, you-", she said, before Shinji cut her off with an automatic "Ensign Ikari."

This time, he noted, Aida kept his arm with him, and Ms. Kirishima raised an eyebrow at it. "Oh", she said after a moment, "I am sure you will be promoted soon. As I was saying, this nation owes you a great debt for the bravery you showed in the last battle. Is it true that you took it down all by yourself?", she asked, and Shinji could have sworn her eyes grew a bit bigger, like a child begging for another bowl of rice. He would have lied if he had said that it didn't have an effect on him. He was somewhat unused to female attention, no doubt courtesy of spending the last few years in an almost exclusively male environment.

"Yes, well,..", he began, before Aida cut in again. "Yes he did. He is the pilot of Evangelion Unit 1, after all."

"Oh!", Kirishima exclaimed, and would no doubt have started on another piece about Shinji's heroics, but he cut her off.

"Actually, no, I didn't. A great many people fought in that battle, and I only played a small part in it, really.", he said, somewhat more forcefully than he had originally intended to.

Kirishima rallied admirably. "Of course, I didn't mean to slight the sacrifices of the men that we buried here today...", she managed, before Shinji intervened again.

"Quite frankly, Miss Kirishima, if you are looking for the real heroes of this battle, you will not find them here.", he all but shouted, and turned to go, leaving Aida and Suzuhara standing with her, the former holding a hand over his face to hide the shame.

Once had gone a few steps, his anger cooled as quickly as it had risen. He turned around, and said, "The crew of the airship that carried the Evangelion into battle died to the last man. And not a single one of them lies here, because they were civilians. That, Miss Kirishima, is what won this battle. Not me."

Finished, he continued on the way towards the base. Within a few moments, Aida and Suzuhara had appeared next to him, matching his stride.

"Slightly sloppy execution, but overall very well done, Ikari", Aida said, "that bit where you played down your heroics at the end...marvelous. Now she thinks you are one of those humble ones. You know, 'I only did my job, ma'am'". He grinned at Shinji, who did not show an reaction to it.

"Now, you just make sure you remember your handsome roommate when she introduces you to her sister or something."

"Suzuhara," Shinji said, "the doctor told me not to over strain my arm, so if you would do me the favor and punch Aida for me..."

"Gladly", Suzuhara responded, reached around Shinji and smacked Aida on the back of the head.

_Aboard Imperial Japanese Navy Destroyer Sakura_  
_ About 50 miles south-west of Tokyo_  
_ August 25, 1915, Morning_

There were days when Shinji unconditionally loved his job. Getting up in the very early hours of the day, heading out to sea on one of His Majesty's fastest ships, seeing the sun rise over the flat horizon was really something special. It was those days that he was more than glad to have become a sailor.

The same could, sadly, not be said for all of his fellow travelers. While Captains Ayanami and Ryouji seemed utterly unaffected by the ships movements, Ensigns Aida and Suzuhara were hanging over the railing and losing their - already meager - breakfast. Shameful, really, considering that they had relatively calm seas. And while Suzuhara could at least claim that it was part of his job to get off a ship and onto land (sweet, stable land), Aida had no such excuse. Unless he managed to shake it off, he would end up on permanent shore assignment, and that was a career killer in the Imperial Navy if there ever was one. No one needed a puking battleship captain.

But then again, he really had no one to blame but himself. When he had heard that Shinji was packing for a trip on the Sakura, to meet the German fleet and escort them into Tokyo Bay, he had immediately jumped at the chance and had applied for permission to accompany Shinji, ostensibly under the guise of being his translator, since he spoke German.

It was usual that Ensigns at the Naval Academy were given the choice of a foreign language to learn - either for coordination or intelligence purposes, with languages associated with important naval forces being the obvious favorites - German, French, English, Russian. Shinji himself had managed to get some semblance of fluency in French, but as his teacher had put it, barely enough to ask for the way, yet not enough to understand the answer. Aida had chosen German, because, as he had explained Shinji, all the interesting technological works were in German, the works about Zeppelins and submarines and airplanes and so on. By contrast, he had said, all that was available in English were some fantastic books by naval men who honestly believed that airplanes should not only be launched from ships, but that specialized ships with small, short runways should be constructed and form the core of the fleet! The whole notion was, of course, ridiculous, given how poorly such a ship would do in a real naval battle and that all its possible roles could better be filled by the aircraft carrying Zeppelin, which was standard in all major navies.

Suzuhara had, by accident almost, heard that Captain Ryouji would also be there, and had demanded that he accompany Shinji as well. Proving himself to a seasoned SNLF officer like Ryouji would apparently help him once he managed to join the ranks of the SNLF, but given how unusually quiet he was around Ryouji, Shinji wondered if it wasn't just plain hero worship that had caused this decision. And when when he had wondered out loud if Aida was just coming along to maybe get a glimpse at the German Evangelion and its pilot, he had blushed rather heavily and denied that the pilot had anything to do with it.

Meanwhile, Captain Ayanami had disappeared almost immediately after they boarded the Sakura, while Captain Ryouji had dragged Shinji around the ship for a bit and took him to meet the Captain - who had raised an eyebrow at Shinji's sword, but had mellowed immediately when he had been told that Shinji was the pilot of Unit 1. Apparently, his recent victories had made him - abstract though it was, since few people knew that it was him who piloted the Evangelion - a bit of a celebrity in the Imperial Navy. To his embarrassment, he had been asked a great deal on small details of the last few battles, as it turned out the First Officer was somewhat of an Evangelion enthusiast.

It was, in short, a bit of a holiday trip. Oh, certainly, the captain had asked him to plot the intercept course that would bring them to meet the German fleet - with the Navigational Officer keeping a close eye on him - and they had been given a thorough briefing on bridge and ship operations, but no one was fooled that this was anything like a training cruise for young cadets.

Before too long, the lookout reported smoke on the horizon, and within moments, the crew on the bridge could see it, too. A few minutes later, they could see the masts of a ship, heading their way, and the thick black plume of smoke rising from its smokestacks showed that it was making high speed towards them. Soon, they could see the ship itself, and every pair of binoculars on the bridge was trained on it as it came across the horizon.

One the stern of the ship, Shinji could make out the black and white ensign of the German High Seas Fleet. The mood on the bridge had relaxed a bit once the ship had come into full view. No one had seriously assumed that it would be anyone but the Germans, given their position, but one never knew who else was prowling these waters, and a single destroyer was not something that could stand up to much in an all out naval battle - destroyers were small and fast, designed to rush close to the enemy, launch their torpedoes and then retreat (or sink, though few naval officers said that out loud).

The German ship, which Aida immediately and enthusiastically (though still slightly green in the face) proclaimed to be a Frauenlob-class cruiser, flashed a message across in Morse by way of a signal lamp. Shinji tried his best to keep up with it, but was hopelessly lost after just a few letters. Thankfully, another bridge officer read it out loud after it had finished, and Shinji got the impression that he was not the only one on the bridge with a bit of trouble following it - including the Captain.

Apparently satisfied with the answer they sent back, the German ship changed course again, but reduced its speed to allow the Sakura to catch up and fall into formation behind it.

Shinji found some measure of satisfaction in the fact that, only a few minutes later, they could see more smoke over the horizon, meaning that he had plotted the intercept course correctly and they had meet the German squadron perfectly. If they had missed it, there would have been a lengthy chase until they had caught up with them. Of course, no one on the bridge would openly acknowledge it, since it was, after all, just plain mathematics.

Although they had some idea of what to expect, it was still a magnificent sight when the German squadron came into view, a good two dozen ships of all sizes. In the center of the formation were the two massive battleships, which Aida at once identified as the Friedrich der Grosse and the Bayern, which were, apparently, two of the most modern ships in the German fleet. Behind the two behemoths trailed the fleet van - several freight ships, which Shinji assumed to be carrying, amongst other things, the German Evangelion. Smaller cruisers and destroyers formed the outer screen.

Their escort, having delivered its charge, turned away again to take up its old position as a scout ahead of the squadron. The Sakura, meanwhile, headed for the leading battleship, which was flying the triangular ensign of an Admiral, and was therefore presumably the flagship. Once they fell into formation alongside the much larger ship, the Captain ordered that a transfer of personnel be requested, and Shinji went to fetch Suzuhara, who had declined to join them on the bridge for some unexplained, but probably breakfast related, reason.

_Aboard SMS Friedrich der Grosse_  
_ some 50 miles south-west of Tokyo_  
_ August 25, 1915, morning_

They were greeted on board by a delegation of German officers, all in their black dress uniforms (which had to be terribly hot, Shinji thought, being quite glad about his own white uniform), a small detachment of German Marineinfanteristen, which very neatly presented arms when they boarded, and two people in uniforms that would not quite fit in. One was a young woman - a girl, really - with fire-red hair, which would have been found far too long to be of regulation in the Imperial Army or Navy. Her uniform was a bit more extravagant - almost a bit too flashy, for Shinji's taste. The most glaring differences between her and the surrounding naval men, however, were the knee-high riding boots and the saber at her hip. Shinji was not quite sure if the Germans followed the same procedure as the Imperial Navy regarding Swords, but if they did, she had seen combat already. She regarded them with a look of cool disinterest, if not outright boredom, as if she was only here because she had been ordered to. Next to her was a man, wearing the same uniform, who looked a great deal friendlier, although not too terribly interested in being there, either. Shinji assumed that those two were the crew of the German Evangelion, and Aida's facial color - which had gone from green to a pale white - seemed to support the thesis that this was, indeed, the famous Asuka von Zeppelin.

A German officer said something, after the initital round of salutes had gone over, but before Aida could render it into Japanese, Captain Ayanami spoke up.

"He means us to follow him to the bridge, Mr. Kaji.", she said, her voice very low. Shinji looked at her with some surprise, and noted that she did seem somewhat thinner than the last time he had seen her, and, if such a thing was really possible, a bit paler as well. But that might well have been the effects of the sea travel, which she was probably as unaccustomed to as Aida. Only then did he wonder, for just a second, at her unusual form of address to her - technically - fellow officer.

Ryouji did not seem to mind, however, nodded and went with the German delegation, Ayanami trailing behind in their wake. The rest of the Germans, except for the Marines and the Evangelion crew, decided that this was reason enough to leave for their duty stations as well, leaving the small group standing around somewhat awkwardly.

Within seconds, von Zeppelin's patience seemed to have run out, as she immediately crossed the distance to where Shinji and his group were standing. She drew herself up to her full height - slightly larger than Shinji and Aida, but about half a head shorter than Suzuhara. Next to him, Aida audibly gulped. Von Zeppelin mustered each of them in turn through narrowed eyes. She spared Aida just a glance (and a dismissive snort), and stayed only a short moment on Suzuhara, before a shout from her companion made her turn towards Shinji.

Under her gaze, Shinji almost instinctively came to full attention, following several years of training at the Naval Academy. New students quickly learned that some looks from other people had certain meanings, and von Zeppelins look all but screamed that she was higher in rank and status, and that he was behaving in a way she did not like - which was almost as good as ordering him to stop doing it. The second thing a new student learned was how to guess what he was doing wrong and what his superior thought he should be doing, which, in Shinji's limited experience, was a very vital skill when trying to survive in the Imperial Navy.

Then she spat a question towards them, and Shinji instantly knew why the Germans had such a warlike reputation - their very language seemed to have been developed to be audible over the sounds of battle, and if Aida had not answered almost instantly, Shinji might have even thought he had been ordered to do something.

Shinji made eye contact with Aida, who looked like he was eye to eye with a rather large predator, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. The other Ensign, after a moment, remembered that he was supposed to be their translator, and said, "Well, uh, she asked who the idiot was who drives the Japanese Evangelion, and I said that it was you. Well, I think she said idiot. I might have misheard...". Von Zeppelin's facial expression, as far as Shinji could tell, made it rather obvious that he had not misheard. She was looking at Shinji with a certain kind of anger, which made little sense to him. He had done nothing to her which could have caused that. But then again, the common joke amongst the older cadets at the Academy had been, women weren't really rational beings anyway.

"Hey, Ikari, you do speak French, right?", Aida asked next to him. Shinji nodded in response. He then said something in German, which made von Zeppelin narrow her eyes a bit further, and bark something back at the poor Ensign, who increasingly looked like he would rather be somewhere else.

"Congratulations, Ikari, she wants to show you her Evangelion. Right now.", he said to Shinji, and, surprisingly, there was not even a hint of regret in his voice, which Shinji would have expected when Aida was denied the chance to take a look at a modern war machine. Instead, there was almost something like sarcastic pity in it.

"Well, ", Suzuhara said quietly, "looks like someone is in a bit of a hurry to get our hero all alone...". He smiled, and for someone who did not speak Japanese, it would have been a perfectly fine comment by a nice young naval officer, saying goodbye to his fellow officer.

Seconds later, however, when Aida finished his rather unwise translation, they could see the remarkable display of a human volcanic eruption. Von Zeppelin's expression had darkened within seconds (Aida's had paled in turn), and when she looked up at Suzuhara, her eyes told of extraordinary pain to come. Shinji wisely took a step back, when the first slap echoed over the deck, accompanied by more German shouting, as well as some laughter by the surrounding Marines.

"Never before in my life have I been so insulted...", Aida translated flatly,"...you are an animal, a savage, barely even human, if you had the least bit of honor..."

To Suzuhara's credit, he did not strike back, which would have probably ended up in an all out brawl, but merely grabbed her hand when she raised it for another slap in his face. Von Zeppelin's eyes widened at this, and she quickly ripped her arm from his grasp, the anger in her face and in the snarled words still evident enough.

"Oh dear...", Aida said, "erm...she demands satisfaction. I'm pretty sure that s illegal in Germany as well, though..."

However, neither Suzuhara nor von Zeppelin seemed particularly concerned by this, Suzuhara even shouting, "Fine! If she wants it, she can have it!". He held out his hand to Shinji. "Lend me your sword." Shinji hesitated for a moment.

"I think that is a very bad idea.", he finally said. Suzuhara was no doubt bigger and stronger than von Zeppelin, and a man to boot, but her face had taken on a downright cruel look, and Shinji dimly remembered Aida telling him that the Germans assigned their Evangelions to cavalry units, and that as a cavalry officer, von Zeppelin probably would have some training with the saber. Engaging in battle when defeat was likely and victory promised no rewards was also, in his opinion, a spectacularly terrible idea.

"Please, Ikari! This is my honor at stake here!", Suzuhara shouted at him, and a cruel sounding comment by von Zeppelin sent the German Marines reeling with laughter at the whole situation.

The situation was defused by the timely intervention of von Zeppelin's copilot, who had done little more than lay a hand on her shoulder and make a low comment to her. The change in her demeanor was almost frightening, going from a twisted grin to a downright innocent look, which was hard for Shinji to connect to the girl he had just seen challenge Suzuhara to a duel. Under other circumstances, he was sure, he would have found von Zeppelin's company almost disgustingly pleasant.

The German girl grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the middle of the ship, where the boats were stored, while shouting in German towards a group of sailors. Then she turned to him, and the innocent look had - thankfully - disappeared as quick as it had come.

"That idiot didn't lie, right? You do speak French?", she asked, in that language. Shinji nodded again, while trying to liberate himself from her, frankly, somewhat embarrassing grasp. "Good.", she said, and turned her anger towards the sailors, who were, apparently, not readying the boat fast enough for her liking.

_Aboard SMS Bielefeld_  
_ About 40 Miles south-west of Tokyo_  
_ August 25, 1915, late morning_

"The Evangelion is a weapon designed to crush any opposition it faces. Therefore, your goal has to be to inflict a maximum of damage in a minimum of time, to disrupt your enemy's fighting ability. Shock and Awe! That is how the Evangelion wins its battles. If you get into a drawn out fight, you are Dead!"

The lecture had gone for over an hour now, with no sign of stopping. Almost as soon as they had boarded the Bielefeld, where the Evangelion was kept, von Zeppelin had started to teach him how the big girls fought in an Evangelion. Shinji had tried to mention that he, in fact, had some experience in Evangelion operations - at least as much as von Zeppelin had - but the German had decided to ignore that.

Or, indeed, anything he had tried to say.

"5 Minutes! If you can not break your enemy's will to fight in that time, you are useless! Look at this!", she exclaimed, pointing at a patch of her Evangelion's blood red armor which looked like it had been repainted recently. "This is what happens if you give your enemy a chance to grasp what is happening to him. I was attacking a pirate outpost on Java - you know where Java is, right?", she asked, but did not wait for him to tell her that yes, Naval officers were in fact able to read maps, "and it was going very well. I started by throwing a ship at them! They didn't even know I was there before that. But they found out, I guess". She chuckled, caught up in memories for a moment, before turning serious again. "But I got caught in some nets or something for a moment, and they were able to get a gun to fire. It hit, but did not go through. I finished them all off before they could fire again, of course.", she ended. It sounded absolutely natural to Shinji, too, that she would be able to wipe out an entire base in the time it took to reload a gun.

After all, he had seen her when she was just angry that someone made a joke at her expense. Those poor bastards had scratched her Evangelion.

"But if they had hit anywhere else, it might have damaged something. I was too slow! You have to hit the enemy as hard as you can in your first strike, and while they try to find out what just happened, you break their spirit entirely by continuous attack. That is the essence of modern warfare!"

In the three battles he had fought, Shinji had not seen his enemy lose the will to fight even once. Not one of them had turned to run, not one of them had taken a step back in fear. Indeed, he was dubious that these monsters could even feel such a thing. Even rats could, but not these things. Of course, he now knew better than to tell von Zeppelin so.

"So now you know what you did wrong, right? You tried to fight it out in the most stupid manner possible. I can't blame you, of course, you did not go to the right school to learn about such things. It is very silly that your Navy should be running war machines on land. What is next, the Army running ships?"

In Shinji's opinion, it was not silly at all. After all, they were fighting an enemy that came in from the sea, and that was the job of the Navy. Not that he would have trusted the Army with such a thing, anyway. Politeness dictated that he let the rest of her comment slide. The way things were going, she was going to learn the realities of combat against the monsters soon enough, and he would be there to deliver an equally cutting analysis of her failing in that engagement.

"It looks so different from my Evangelion.", he said, gesturing to the giant red form. Unlike his own Unit 1, the Zeppelin Eva II had a rather small head, which looked entirely too small to carry a two man cockpit. Its arms seemed bigger than the ones in his Evangelion, however, and the whole upper torso - as far as he could see it - seemed a great deal bulkier.

"Well, obviously. Yours is just a test type, right? The Eva II is a regular front line Evangelion, the first one in the world. While you were still trying out various things, we have already perfected it. It has 50 millimeters of armor on its upper torso plate, in specially developed, light weight steel. Its armor forms part of the structure, actually, and is absolutely watertight. This Evangelion can fight in gas-contaminated areas and underwater. Is it true that yours has on open cockpit?"

"Well,", Shinji said, "yes, but...", but that was all von Zeppelin wanted to hear, and so she continued on, after a small chuckle.

"We moved away from that in our second prototype. It seems to me that it is time that Japan gets some more modern Evangelions, yours is practically ancient. I mean, someone told me you fight with a spear, of all things, but that must be wrong. Why would you design such a machine and then fight with weapons that were outdated half a century ago? That would be silly."

Shinji briefly entertained the notion of correcting her - 'Actually, ma'am, it is a lance, and it is very effective against these things' - but she had already rambled on.

"Now, the Zeppelin Eva II carries 8 machine guns, three on each shoulder - outside the hull, so there won't be any firing holes that could let water in - and 2 mounted on the lower left arm. But that is barely adequate, really. My uncle is looking into increasing the caliber, or maybe the number, maybe switch to a Gatling principle cannon, but you know how it is - more weight is always bad. It also has two wire throwers, one on each side of the torso."

She pointed to a wicked looking arrowhead, protruding from a small bump in the hull.

"The wire it throws is connected to the Evangelion's power supply, and can be used to overload the electrical system of another Evangelion. Its an entirely new weapon system, and the Eva II is the first front line Evangelion in the world that uses it."

Aerial torpedoes, Shinji thought. The Eva II sounded disturbingly like the promised mass production type.

"Well, in the battles I have fought, the machine guns haven't really done much...", he began, but von Zeppelin cut him off immediately.

"You were probably using them wrong. They are used against light vehicles and infantry. And let me guess, they jammed? Japanese weapons are known for their bad ammunition and poor mechanical reliability. Thankfully, we have several spare guns on the Augsburg, and we should be able to fit them to your Evangelion."

How these things were supposed to defeat the armor of light these monsters liked to use, Shinji had no idea, but he was under the impression that von Zeppelin wouldn't believe him anyway if he told her that the things he fought had possessed an impenetrable armor made out of shimmering light that was projected away from them.

And really, he had started to look forward to seeing her reaction when she found out.

Von Zeppelin had just drawn a deep breath - a sound he had come to connect with the beginning of another lecture - when a wave shook the ship to the side. This surprised Shinji, far more the von Zeppelin, who just frowned. They were having calm seas earlier, and the weather did not look like it would change very quickly. Then he felt the vibrations in the hull increase as the ship sped up, and heard the hull groan and creak as it executed a turn far to more tightly than usual. These were emergency maneuvers, he was sure, and he left a somewhat irritated von Zeppelin standing in the cargo space while he hurried back on deck.

As he reached the main deck and could see the sea again, he heard the cracks of the first gunshots. They were disjointed, not full salvos, which meant that this was a really bad situation - the ships had not even had time to go to battle stations, but had to engage as soon as they had their guns ready to fire. What he saw when he looked across the water chilled his blood.

The squadron had been thrown into complete confusion by a sudden attack. He briefly wondered if it was a submarine, but a quick glance towards the center showed both battleships still afloat and making good speed, and no submariner would pass up on such an opportunity. Additionally, the only other submarines in the Pacific were Russian and American, and he had his doubts that either would try and pick a fight with Japan or Germany right out of the blue.

A surface fleet, however, would have been spotted minutes (if not hours) before they came into range, allowing for enough time to get every ship combat ready. Then he saw what they were fighting, and his heart sank.

It was gigantic. It had to be, pushing a giant wave ahead of itself. He could not really see it, and the Bielefeld was turning away sharply from it, while the destroyers on the other side of the battleships passed her, running at high speed. Then he saw the giant gun turrets on the German ships swing around, point at the huge wave, and fire with a roar of thunder. Seconds later, huge fountains of water rose into the sky all around it. The German gunners had found the range on their first try, which would have impressed Shinji a great deal more if it had not been at practically point blank range, and if he had not been scared witless.

The enemy made a straight run towards the battleships, aiming for the flagship, but a German cruiser flung itself gallantly into its path, guns blazing all the way. The thing that attacked them rose out of the water for a moment, and Shinji could see a pale gray body, which did not look at all like it had been made by humans. Then it opened its mouth, and for a brief moment, the sky around the cruiser seemed to be made entirely out of teeth. Then its upper jaw crashed down, ripping the helpless ship in two and dragging it down with it.

Some pieces of debris appeared on the surface shortly afterwards, but the German warship had without a doubt been lost with all hands. Shinji frantically looked around for any sign of the sea monster - he was certain, now, that it was one of the same kind that had attacked Tokyo before - but there were none to be seen. Somehow, this made him feel even more uneasy. The thought of that thing circling below like a giant predator - which, frankly, it was - looking for a helpless victim to drag down made the hair rise on his neck.

Especially since the freighter he was on was easily the most helpless ship in the area.

"What is the cause of this commotion?", the voice of von Zeppelin demanded from behind. This time, Shinji spent no time on niceties.

"We are under attack", he informed her, still searching the sea for any hint to where the beast was. Every second he could not see it raised the chance that it was directly below them, coming in for another kill. "It is probably a sea monster like the ones I fought in Tokyo."

"Excellent!", von Zeppelin exclaimed, startling Shinji. He felt a new wave of dread approaching, and it was only indirectly connected to the monster they were facing.

"We will attack at once. Since my copilot is still on the other ship, you are coming with me."

For a brief moment, Shinji wanted to ask why she did not sortie alone - it should not be a problem - but then thought better of it. After all, being in an Evangelion was about as risky as being on an unarmed freighter in a battle, and quite possibly less so.

He needn't have argued with himself, though, since von Zeppelin grabbed him by the arm when he did not immediately responded and manhandled (girlhandled?) him back towards the cargo space.

"It shouldn't be too much of a problem to adapt to the German control layout. I mean, you have been cross trained on the Japanese one, and all the major things basically look the same."

"Err...", Shinji made, trying to find a way to break the news to von Zeppelin without being killed for disappointing her again. He had a feeling that she did not suffer fools gladly, and that she had a very broad definition of 'fool'.

Thankfully, she ignored him, until she had opened the hatch on the rear of the Evangelion and had climbed inside. He crawled after her and closed the hatch from the inside, sealing them in. After he had taken his place on the seat - which was quite comfortably, he found, compared to the control harness - he came up empty of what to do now. He should probably be triggering the harness to tighten it up, like they always did when he had strapped in to pilot Unit 1, but most of the buttons and switches in front of him were entirely unlabeled, and the ones that were bore German names. Even though he could read the letters, the words made no sense to him, and von Zeppelins assurance that everything basically looked the same proved of little help since he had not, in fact, been crosstrained on Unit 1.

"Well?", a short tempered voice called from the front, "Are you going to start up or not?"

Once more, Shinji could only respond with a somewhat helpless sound of confusion at the seemingly hundreds of switches. He engaged one of them, hoping against reason that it would turn out the right one, and was bumped on the head by something that looked like something out of the book on submarines he had borrowed from Aida once. A periscope, he believed it was called.

The sound of fingers drumming impatiently on metal sounded from the cockpit. Von Zeppelins already short patience was running dangerously low, and so Shinji decided that it was time for emergency maneuvers.

"I do believe that it is somewhat different in the Japanese Evangelion...", he said helplessly, trying to sound like it was really just a matter of minor details. Von Zeppelin's answer did not sound very convinced at that.

"The control for the harness is always on the far left side under a protective cover, so you don't accidentally engage it in combat. This is the same in every Evangelion control scheme I have seen.", the icy voice said into the darkness of the cockpit. "In fact, I know that the Japanese ones use our system, specifically, because they asked me to provide details on it, since I designed it.", she finished, putting special emphasis on the last part.

It made sense to Shinji as well, and he quickly located the correct item and engaged the switch.

"Good,", von Zeppelin's voice said, in a strong biting undertone. "Now start up the Diesel..."

She did not get any farther, because in that very moment, the Bielefeld shook violently, and the sound of the engines stopped abruptly. In Shinji's admittedly limited experience with naval battles, that was Not A Good Sign. It shuddered again, and with the sound of screaming metal, the hull of the ship in front of them was torn apart by giant teeth. Water streamed in rapidly, filling the cargo space and flooding the area around the Evangelion.

Without a moments hesitation, the engine inside the Evangelion sprang to life, apparently started by an impatient pilot. Shinji had certainly kept his hands away from anything inside the cockpit. The dials in front of him started to turn, and while all of them were labeled, none of it made any sense to Shinji. He could not even find out how bad the situation really was.

To his surprise and growing horror, von Zeppelin easily moved her war machine towards the gaping hole in the ships hull, and then - without so much as a warning - leaped into the water.

Unsurprisingly, the Evangelion sank like a stone. To make matters worse, the Diesel engine immediately started to suck in air from inside the the pressurized hull, creating a painful underpressure and filling the air with choking fumes.

"The snorkel!", von Zeppelin screamed, "Engage the snorkel! It's on the engine panel!".

Which did not help Shinji any.

"Upper right side, for God's sake!", she shouted after a short moment.

Shinji looked at the indicated area, and to his relief, there were only two switches there. He pushed one, and felt something detach itself from the sinking Evangelion. Moments later, the Diesel stopped its assault on their eardrums, and the air cleared.

"How deep is the water here?", von Zeppelin demanded.

"How am I supposed to know that?", Shinji shot back.

"Well, you are naval officer, aren't you? Don't you guys normally deal with these things?"

While it was true that naval officers usually had some idea of how deep the water was they were in - after all, running a battleship aground was never good for one's career - naval officers also usually had a map in front of them and could order some sailors to do a sounding, if they were unsure.

"Erm...", Shinji made, "we are probably over the flooded coastal plains, so, uh, 80 meters, I guess."

"Oh.", von Zeppelin made, and there were few sounds that Shinji would have liked less to hear. It was the sound of someone who had just found a rather large flaw in their plan.

Something dawned on Shinji.

"How long is the snorkel, by the way?", he asked.

"About 30 meters.", came the reply.

"Oh."

_Zeppelin Eva II type Evangelion, Second Guards Hussars, Imperial German Army_  
_ 30 Meters below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, 40 Miles south-west of Tokyo_  
_ August 25, 1915, late morning_

They both knew when their lifeline to the surface ran out again. Immediately, the Diesel sputtered and began to suck air from inside the Evangelion again. This time, von Zeppelin switched it off without a comment, turning the machine silent while they slowly sank into the murky depths below.

There was a feeling in the back of his head that wondered why he wasn't panicking, like he should. They had lost their source of power, were sitting in a huge metal coffin, which was slowly sinking towards the sea ground, they had no way of getting back towards the surface, no one on board the ships in the area knew they were gone, and there was a giant sea monster still hunting around. He really should be in a state of panic, but there was a curious sense of detachment. Perhaps, he idly wondered, it had something to do with being in the backseat this time.

A few moments later, the Evangelion hit the sea floor, stirring up a cloud of sediments all around them. And then they sat there, waiting in silence.

Until Shinji couldn't take it anymore.

"What do we do now?", he asked, and it seemed like von Zeppelin had all but waited for the opportunity.

"How should I know!", she shouted back at him, "You fought these things before, didn't you? You are the navy officer, not me! Does this look like suitable terrain for a cavalry operation to you?"

It was, in short, all his fault now. He felt his eye twitch a little in irritation. He knew he should be mature, that he should be professional, that, above all, he should be courteous to a woman, but none of that mattered to him in that moment. And really, it wasn't like they had anything better to do.

"Why, it did sound to me like you knew what you were doing just a few minutes ago. In fact, I do remember a rather lengthy lecture on my failings in battle...", he said, after a short consideration. It went over exactly as he had expected.

"How dare you!", the voice shrieked from the cockpit, "I...How DARE you! Here I am, graciously explaining some semblance of tactics to you, and you go around and throw it into my face! Rarely has one seen such thanklessness! You should be ashamed of yourself, to resort to such childish pettiness in the face of..."

Just as she seemed to really ramp herself up into a full scale tirade about his various shortcomings, the very face of danger she had been about to invoke appeared, as if summoned by her for the sake of demonstration. The murky waters in front of the Evangelion darkened, and before either of them could wonder what it was, they were staring into the maw of the beast that had attacked the fleet. It had opened its mouth wide, the distance between the jaws easily larger than the Evangelion was tall, ready to crush them like it had crushed the cruiser above.

Then, several things happened in rapid succession. Before Shinji could even scream - not that he would have, he quickly told himself, as that would be silly and not at all appropriate for an officer of his standing - von Zeppelin had reengaged the diesel. The engine immediately began sucking air from inside the hull again, creating a painful underpressure. Then, impossibly, she lunged forwards into the maw of death itself, and, arms raised, knees bent, managed to wedge the Evangelion in between the two massive jaws. The screams of abused metal, forced to the breaking point, told of the battle between the forces of hydraulic power and raw beastly strength.

Although the window set into the frontal hull showed only the interior of the monsters mouth - including, as Shinji noted with great interest, a conspicuous red orb - they both felt that the Evangelion was moving again, at a rapid speed. Clearly, the beast they were fighting was moving swiftly through the water, far quicker than any machine man could have invented.

Conditions inside the Evangelion had, by this point, started to become hellish. The engine was pumping its fumes directly into the hull, making it more and more difficult to see, while the pressure assaulting their ears grew with every passing second and every breath started to hurt.

"Fire your guns!", Shinji screamed to von Zeppelin, who was still struggling to keep the monster from crushing the Evangelion between its jaws. "We have to destroy that orb!"

"They don't work underwater!", came the strained answer.

When the pain in his ears ceased, Shinji first assumed that his eardrums had given out. Then he noticed that he could still hear the engine just fine, which allowed just one possible answer.

"We have broken the surface!", he shouted, and a second later, the machine guns located on the Evangelion's shoulder roared.

Once.

Von Zeppelin subjected Shinji to a short overview of German curse words - although he did not understand them, the feeling behind them was universal and definitely mutual - before shouting in French, "They must have been damaged by that thing! They jammed!"

Shinji decided that a barb at the mechanical reliability of German guns - as compared to Japanese ones - would perhaps be appropriate, but certainly not appreciated, and so he saved it.

Unable to close its mouth fully, the monster had taken to shake its head violently from side to side, trying to clear out that annoying obstruction caught in its teeth. When that failed, it plunged back below the surface, then turned around, and Shinji felt gravity pulling him out of his seat. He stabilized himself with one hand against the instrumentation panel, when a sudden lurch threw him clear off the seat. Looking past the shock of red hair in the cockpit he could suddenly see the sea again, which made for a disturbing realization - the monster had thrown them out of its mouth.

Von Zeppelin, however, was utterly unimpressed, and in the split second it took Shinji to take in the situation, she had already engaged the wire thrower. They crashed back into the sea, but just a moment latter, they found themselves dragged through the water at high speed, which made for a very bumpy ride.

Somehow, despite being thrown around the cockpit like a ragdoll, Shinji had managed to drag himself back into the copilot's seat - mentally swearing never to take this place again, since the control harness at least kept him stable. It was obvious that the wire had found its mark, although what von Zeppelin had tried to accomplish with it, Shinji had no idea. Every second he spent bouncing around like this added to his already impressive collection of bumps and bruises.

Through the sound of the water rushing past the hull and the sound of the cable that connected them to the monster straining, Shinji could hear another sound that made him feel every bit as uncomfortable as the other two.

Despite their situation, von Zeppelin was laughing. In fact, it was not the mad laughter of someone who had gone insane with fear, or the cynical laughter of someone who saw no more hope, but the clear and free laughter of someone who was truly, and immensely, enjoying the situation. Von Zeppelin was having fun. More than that, she was having the time of her life.

Shinji, for his part, was having the time of his life trying to hold onto his breakfast. Between the constant movement without a fixed point of reference, the fear and the choking fumes from the diesel that still lingered in the cockpit, his stomach had decided that perhaps he had eaten something wrong after all.

When they next saw the monster, it had apparently tried to shake off the annoying little pest that had tied itself to its body by twisting and turning, which had only served to wrap the cable more tightly around itself. From a short distance, von Zeppelin fired the other wire thrower, which served to stabilize them slightly. It also infuriated the beast even more, driving it into a mad rage. It leaped out of the water, the Evangelion strapped tightly to it, turned in midair - far more gracefully than such a massive creature should be capable of - and slammed both of them back into the sea, as if it was trying to crush the machine on its back between the water and its own body.

It only served to make the tangle of cables even more entangled. Black lines crisscrossed its body, and the water around them started to turn red from all the blood that seeped from the cuts the wires made into the flesh of the monster.

And still, von Zeppelin was howling with glee. Shinji had quietly decided that his part of this battle was over, that this was now the battle of wills between an incomprehensible, alien creature and a really big fish.

It was testament to his state of mind that he was only slightly puzzled by the fact that von Zeppelin seemed to have started to talk to the thing in German, and that he was utterly unsurprised that she was using a voice he had heard people use with stubborn horses. Trying to tame a giant sea monster seemed to be par for the course, as far as this girl was concerned.

Although he did decide to ask for reassignment should she succeed. Perhaps as the naval liaison officer to the Ministry of Underground Mining, or to the Experimental High Altitude Balloon Corps. Anything to get far, far away from her.

But, thankfully for the sake of his sanity, the beast seemed to largely ignore von Zeppelin's calls, as it did her attempts to steer it by tugging on the wires. This, of course, did little to stop her from trying, although it did serve to spoil her mood somewhat.

He wondered if the thing realized just how bad an idea that was.

After rolling over several times in full view of the fleet - which had, apparently, decided not to fire for fear of hitting the Evangelion, a notion that Shinji was extremely thankful for, given his recent experiences - the monster had obviously decided that it could do nothing to shake off the Evangelion, and now seemed set on just ignoring it outright.

At a speed far exceeding any ship Shinji had ever seen, the monster was tearing through the formation of warships, not even bothering with the smaller ones, which it knew were powerless to stop it anyway. Instead, it was heading back towards the center, where the two massive battleships were steaming. Heading for the leading flagship, the beast seemed to realize that it won't be able to tear it apart like it had the hapless cruiser earlier. Keeping its mouth shut instead, it rammed the equally sized warship, making the giant steel construct lurch to the other side. Inside the Evangelion, the sudden stop made Shinji's chest intimately familiar with all the little buttons sticking out of the panel in front of his seat. Looking through the window, he saw the battleship listing, and for a brief moment, Shinji feared that it would capsize, but then it rightened itself.

Unfortunately, the proximity of the monster meant that the Friedrich der Grosse could not depress her guns enough to actually hit it, even if she had wanted to. However, its attacker seemed utterly clueless about the finer details of naval gunnery, and dove under the ship, gained some distance, and charged again. This time, Shinji managed to properly brace himself, and the monster's attack once more did little to impress the giant armored ship.

"So, will the Navy offer anything to this fight, or are you just here for entertainment?", von Zeppelin said, her mood having swiftly switched to anger when she noticed that she was now being completely ignored by a giant maritime lifeform. And despite the brief time that he had known her, Shinji could already tell that the German did not like being ignored by anybody, least of all things she was having a fight with.

"The orb", Shinji repeated, "we have to destroy the orb that is in its mouth."

"Oh, great", the pilot said testily, "we have to destroy something surrounded by hundreds of teeth. Simple."

"Well, you...", Shinji began hotly, before he reminded himself that, although it was fun to argue with von Zeppelin, it was also deeply unprofessional, and would not do. And they, sort of, still had to get the job done.

He tried to approach it rationally, like he had been trained. Of course, sitting in a school room was one thing, being thrown around by a giant fish as it was battering itself against a battleship was quite another, and it did not make the task any easier.

They had to destroy the orb. That was the objective.

Another crash shook the Evangelion.

To get to the orb they had to get the beast to open its mouth. Then, they had to hit it with some sort of weapon. The machine guns were useless. The wirethrowers had been spent.

Another crash.

"This Unit has some sort of melee weapon, right?", he asked, but immediately got a chuckle in response.

"Of course not. What do you think this is, the Middle Ages? I told you that melee weapons have no place in modern warfare, if you had even the least bit of common sense..."

"Right", Shinji interrupted, "then we have a problem."

In the meantime, the beast had charged the battleship several times, and during the brief times that they spent overwater, he could see that the screen of cruisers and destroyers had drawn closer. Far more disturbing however, was that the Friedrich der Grosse seemed to have started to show first signs of battle damage. Despite her heavily armored hull, the repeated attacks were starting to have an effect. The ship was now listing to one side, and seemed to have slowed down a little.

When the monster had backed up again, it was obvious that her Captain had decided that the time to care for the Evangelion was past. In the moment the beast turned to charge once more, a great howl filled the air, and all around them giant fountains of water rose high into the sky, accompanied by the pinging of shrapnel that was hitting the Evangelion's hull.

And, of course, von Zeppelin's cursing.

"Correction,", Shinji called, "problem solved."

"Oh really!", von Zeppelin asked, with biting sarcasm, "does your solution involve us dieing? Because that would be a stupid solution, even if it is probably the best you can come up with."

"You don't understand,", he answered - very reasonably, in his opinion - "we can use them to hit the orb. We just have to get it to open its mouth."

"Oh.", von Zeppelin made. "Right. Obvious." A dismissive snort. "Now, watch an expert at work."

She grabbed the sides of the monsters jaws with the Evangelion's hands, cut the wirethrowers that used to connect them to the beast, and, with deliberating slowness, started to pull. At first, the beast was not impressed, but after a few moments, the relentless strength of the machine won out against animalic will. Or perhaps, it just convinced it that it might as well try and eat the battleship after all, now that it had weakened its prey sufficiently.

Either way, it was now in front of the entire squadron, its mouth wide open, and the Germans lost no time in striking at it. If they knew that this was its weak point, or if it was just fear that drove them, Shinji did not know, but he did feel the giant body jerk beneath them as dozens of shells hammered into it. Then, at a distance of perhaps a hundred meters, Friedrich der Grosse fired her main battery. 8 giant shells, each capable of punching through a cruisers armor and out the other side at this distance, slammed into the beast. Even inside the armored hull of the Evangelion, the rolling thunder that followed was deafening.

As was the silence that followed.

There was no scream. There was no howl. The only sign that anything had happened was that the monster slowed down, and then came to a full stop. More shells pummeled it, but one after the other, the guns fell silent. It was really quite anticlimactic, in a way, Shinji decided. But then again, he reasoned, climatic battles always showed poor judgment. If you gave your enemy a fair fight, you were doing it wrong.

"Fair enough.", von Zeppelin said, after a moment, "Idiot's face improved, fleet saved, monster killed."

She sounded quite content with herself, and Shinji thought better than to argue with her about it. He enjoyed the little moment of tranquility far too much to disturb it by petty bickeri...

"And all that before lunch!"

He gave a quiet sigh. The recovery ships really couldn't come soon enough.

**A/N: **So ends chapter 5. And its only 2 months late! In the initial draft, the battle scene was supposed to end earlier, when the Angel charged the fleet and opened its mouth for the fatal salvo, but it looked too much like "and then the monster turned stupid" - and that is saying something, given how I have handled the other battles so far.

Anyway, any and all criticism is very much welcome. Leave review if you liked it, and especially if there was something that you didn't like.


	6. Chapter 6

_White Sands Gunnery Range, Fort Bliss, Texas_  
_United States of America_  
_September 1, 1915, midday_

Deserts had their advantages for the conduct of and training in military operations. One was that there were few people around that could be inconvenienced by them, be it by being hit by a fast travelling piece of metal - very inconvenient indeed - or by being told to leave the area to avoid just that. Or, of course, because there were some things they weren't supposed to see. It made perfect sense to have the greatest open range in the United States situated in a desert.

It was _just ever so slightly_ uncomfortable.

They had been sitting in their waiting area for well over two hours now, without a single square inch of shade anywhere near the Evangelion. The air inside had long since become uncomfortable warm. Shortly afterwards it had become downright hellishly hot. By now, Second Lieutenant Mary 'It's pronounced Leftenant' Illustrious Makinami, United States Army, was trying to entertain herself by coming up with a new way to describe the interior conditions of the Evangelion. Finding words to describe a temperature above the level of hell was proving little distraction, and she was starting to suspect that going over the various synonyms for hot was not helping her stay cool.

She was sure that she was starting to look like quite the mess. After two hours in harness, her uniform was soaked in sweat and clung to her skin. At least the harness used in this Evangelion was only a half harness, not like the European models, which made it impossible for the pilot to move around in a disabled Evangelion. Here, she could at least get to her canteen, even if it only contained water. Hot water that wasn't tea, she mentally despaired, was a tragedy in three acts.

"Ernest,", she said to her copilot in the most neutral tone she could muster, "do make a note, please, that the ventilation in this vehicle is _not entirely_ up to the task."

"I'll say." her companion replied dryly "There's nothing a firm upper lip can't solve."

Mary chuckled. Her upper lip was pretty damn rigid by now.

They lapsed into silence again, waiting for their turn on the range. They were last in line, but Mary did not mind that at all. It was polite to let others go first - her mother had taught her that. Apparently, this was called queueing and was fundamental to all civilized culture. And besides, they would need a new range after she was done. Growing girls had to let off some steam every now and then, and what better way to do so than leveling the little town they had built for demonstration purposes?

Mary considered herself quite lucky to have a job that she enjoyed so much. Even all the little things the Army did to annoy her didn't really detract from it. Like demanding that she sign a statement that she wouldn't hold the Army responsible for any damages suffered to life and limb in service - which none of her male comrades had to do. Or deciding to assign her to the Technology Assessment Command instead of a proper posting in a regular unit, where she might get a little dirty. Or paying her only half of what a male officer of her rank would make, because 'men had to provide for a family'. Or flat out telling her that she would be discharged when she married. If it hadn't been for other dozen girls or so that had come before her and had held ranks during that dark and desperate time during the Second Civil War, right after Second Impact, they might have turned her away entirely.

But on the other hand, she reminded herself with a grin, the look on the face of her last commanding officer when he learned that she would be driving one of the new, 30 ton, 70 foot Virtue-class Evangelions had been worth all that as well. Last she had heard he was now military attache to Brazil, and looking to get a posting to Europe or Asia. A curious chap, he was.

The reason they were off standing in the sun waiting was simple, small, and drove on caterpillar tracks. The Army called it an AFV, or Armored Fighting Vehicle, but Mary always insisted that they either change the spelling to the proper form or, more accurately, call it an Adorable Fighting Vehicle. Compared to the towering Evangelion, their squat forms were positively hug-able. There were about a dozen of them, rolling across the desert in front of her, waving at each other with signal flags and generally being cute, after a fashion. They were supposed to be simulating an attack on the little town ahead and clear it of simulated enemies. The planners had said that it would take an infantry company an hour and a dozen casualties to do that, and the commander of the AFV unit had claimed that they would be able to do it in 30 minutes, without losing more than one or two vehicles.

Mary had held her peace, said nothing and privately calculated that it would take her about 10 minutes and maybe a bit of scratched paint with Hope, the Evangelion she had been assigned. If she had Faith and Charity with her, they could probably do it in less time, but there just came the point where adding more Evangelions did little to hasten the process. Economy of Force, it was called. That was what they were supposed to be showing here - that a single Virtue could do the work of an entire infantry company.

No one had ever said that the town had to be recognizable afterwards.

The AFVs proved only a small distraction, once they entered the town itself. The only thing audible were the machine guns they were equipped with, which tack-ered on and off. Occasionally, a tracer deflected off something and went flying skywards. For a simulated battle, it seemed dreadfully boring to Mary.

After a good hour, the red flag that meant "exercise in progress" went down, and a good 20 minutes later the last AFV had been dragged out of the town by one of its compatriots.

Now, Mary could feel the adrenaline starting to fill her veins. Everything started to look a little sharper, the heat became less oppressive and the silence inside the Evangelion grew appreciably. She had her eyes fixed on the range control tower, waiting for the green flag - "Range clear" - to come up. Every second was an eternity and every breath a roar in the enclosed space of the cockpit. Any moment now.

She lived for these seconds, and the total chaos that would follow. A few minutes of total freedom, where nothing mattered but the next second, where no one could hold her up or stop her or tell her that she had to do something because the rules said so. She had 30 tons of heavily armed metal below and all around her. The rest of the world could go bugger itself. And that freedom was so close she could almost taste it. Any moment now.

Other officers studied war as if it was just one more thing to understand and master, like an academic exercise. Mary had a different idea of warfare. It was inherently chaotic, random and violent. Which, in her opinion, matched her fairly well. The others would despair when their little scenarios fell apart, and would spend endless hours analysing them as well as past campaigns in the hopes of finding the tiny errors they had made. As if defeat just meant that they had added 2 and 2 and had come out at 57. But since war was chaos, Mary had found little use for that school of thought and subscribed instead to a strategy of embracing that chaos and violence to the fullest. She made atavistic savagery work for her, and made a habit of doing things that no one could possibly foresee.

Her hands were firmly on the handles, which were really only there to help her hold on to something and control the vital functions. The Virtues had no arms ("without arms, but certainly not unarmed", the joke went), which made them lighter, easier to control and to produce, which meant more could be spent on making sure they were good fighting machines.

Then, when the pressure had become almost unbearable and she found herself subconsciously straining against the harness that connected her to the Evangelion - like a bloodthirsty hound straining to be unleashed - a hint of green cloth appeared at the range control tower.

She did not wait until it went all the way up, pressing down on the button that started up the long row of engines that had been set along the Evangelion's spine. They roared to life and she pressed down both feet as far as they would go. The electrical engines that powered each of the eight wheels on each of the four legs whined as their power input increased. The wheels dug into the fine desert sand and for a moment the Evangelion stood still. She gave a frustrated growl and, as if heeding her displeasure, the Evangelion found purchase and almost catapulted itself forward.

They roared through the desert at speed, and Mary felt the rush all the way from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. They were on the hunt, and the little town ahead was the hunting ground. Her eyes were eagerly scanning the rows of wooden houses for any sign of the game. Behind her Ernest was probably doing the same, but he had proper optics to do it with. She could have used the targeting scope, but doing so in full drive over bumpy terrain would probably leave her looking like she had been in a bar fight. And that just wouldn't do for a young lady such as herself.

"Target, Infantry, top floor, second house on the right", Ernest said from behind.

She looked over and saw the little painted silouettes behind the windows, indicating that there were simulated infantrymen there.

"Engaging" she managed, barely. For some reason, driving an Evangelion usually made it a bit difficult for her to hold a proper conversation. The thrill of the hunt, she had reasoned.

She pushed another button, and ten heavy machine-guns roared from Hope's chest. They easily ripped through the wooden walls and shredded the paper targets that stood in for real soldiers of flesh and blood, the latter being at a premium post-impact.

"Target, Infantry, top floor, on the left. Lots of them." her copilot was still so much calmer than her.

"Cannon.", Marie grunted. She eased up with her left foot, decreasing the speed of the tires on that side and turning the Evangelion that way. She managed a quick glance through the targeting scope, and when the house appeared roughly in the center she fired the main gun with the push of a button.

The twelve inch cannon set into the left side of the Evangelion barked, sending a load of ball bearings downrange. The result was a lot more satisfying than the machine guns. The front of the house disappeared in a cloud of dust and a musical crunch. Instead of correcting her course again so that they would pass between the two houses - or one house and a ruin, as the case may be - Mary allowed the Evangelion to continue on its path and smashed into and through the house, the flimsy wooden construction barely slowing the thirty-ton of Evangelion at all.

She executed a sharp turn to the right, in the direction of the all-important town centre with its crossroads. Securing the roads in and out of the town was defined as winning, and conventional military wisdom demanded that the simulated enemy would likely concentrate his forces there.

Mary, of course, had her own opinion on the merits of conventional military wisdom.

Pushing Hope to high speed again, she decided that the buildings around the crossroads ahead were where a defence would be staged, and therefore a liberal application of firepower was in order. Not waiting for Ernest to call out enemies, she started to hammer machine gun salvos into the upper floors whilst making sure that each suspicious building - and they were all suspiciously intact, for a start - received a shot of the big cannon.

They were somewhat less suspicious and a great deal less intact afterwards.

Rather than slowing the Evangelion down when they reached the crossroads, Mary pushed Hope to its limit and roared past it, sparing a glance out of the left side window down the road.

"Target, gun emplacement...", Ernest began, but Marie would have none of it.

"Noted."

It had been such an obvious position to ambush a force passing through the crossroads. Unfortunately, that ambush assumed that an attacking force would keep to the streets. That would be conventional military wisdom - vehicles used streets.

Mary kept Hope on course for another second, then shifted the Evangelion on a course to the left. Firing the cannon from close range, the house in front of them all but disintegrated and what little remained was swiftly crushed under Hope's wheels. She kept firing, destroying one building after the other in their path, effectively cutting through an entire city block while they circled around the guns pointed at the crossroads. Just as the ammunition counter for the cannon showed empty, Hope smashed its way through the last building on the way back onto the streets. A brutal turn to the left pressed Mary to the right side of the cockpit, but she found that she had calculated correctly, and the guns laid before them - pointed in the wrong direction.

Mary knew that Hope was heavy enough that she could simply crush the guns beneath its wheels. But the thought of not being able to destroy them for another few seconds when they were _right in front of her _was intensely frustrating, so she sprayed machine-gun bullets all over the wooden dummies.

Of course, she went on to flatten them anyway.

"Blue Flag!", Ernest shouted from behind, just as Mary had started to pepper the houses ahead with more machine-gun fire for good measure.

"Exercise over."

Mary felt a warm glow spread all through her body, and suddenly felt the urge to stretch a little, find a bed, curl up and sleep for a while. Evangelion operations were really tiring.

"Good show, I dare say..." Mary said, yawning deeply. A damaged house collapsed under its own weight, and she just could not help herself.

"_Smashing_."

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Office of the Officer in Charge of Operations_  
_Tokyo, Japan_  
_September 14, late afternoon_

In the past two weeks, Shinji had come to put a new value on periods of calm. Before, he would have characterized it as simple boredom, which would be spent filling out endless forms and filing them correctly. Occasionally, they would have a drill, or Captain Ryouji would call on him to discuss tactics, but it was usually boredom.

Now, he called it bliss. Periods of calm meant, first and foremost, that von Zeppelin was not within hearing range. The arrival of the German task-force had started a period of almost feverish activity at the base. Lieutenant Hyuga had his crews work in shifts around the clock to get Unit 1 back into a fighting shape.

Unfortunately for him - indeed, for all of them - von Zeppelin had taken a personal interest in the rebuilding of Unit 1, and was usually found in the hangar advising the crews. That none of them spoke German or French - Hyuga spoke the former thanks to his studies abroad, but pretended not to in her presence - did little to discourage her, though it probably did something to encourage the improper volume of her speech.

It was telling, perhaps, that of the few words of Japanese she had picked up here and there _baka_ was her favourite. Someone had made the mistake of telling her the meaning of the word, and now she was happily adding it to anything that drew her ire.

In other words, _everything_. There was _the baka-engineer_, _the baka-pilot_, _Ensign Baka_, _the Great Baka _and, somewhat redundantly, _the baka-idiot_.

He wondered when they would hear the first baka-baka.

Fortunately for him, von Zeppelin's occupation in the hangars kept her relatively far away from him. Sadly, this situation couldn't last. Sooner or later - and given the progress the reconstruction was making, probably sooner - they would have a joint exercise at the very least.

All the more reason, he decided, to enjoy the tranquility while it lasted.

Naturally, that was the moment when the sirens started screaming. Before Shinji was even out of the door, the sirens had already sounded off that this was not an imminent attack, which probably meant that this was yet another drill. He slowed his run to a fast walk.

One might argue that announcing that it wasn't "real" ran somewhat counter to the idea of a drill. However, going to full combat readiness on short notice always bore the danger of major accidents - taut nerves and live ammunition didn't mix well - and as such, telling people that this was not the real deal made the whole thing much safer.

It would be quite the loss, Shinji mused, if von Zeppelin should be challenged at a road block and get shot for failing to observe protocol.

Nonetheless, his duty station was the hangar, and he made his way there as slowly as could be considered seemly given that they were supposed to be practising a real deployment against a real enemy.

_First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Evangelion Hangar  
Tokyo_  
_September 14, late afternoon_

He arrived at the hangar and immediately noted that the reconstruction of Unit 1 had apparently made good progress. The Evangelion's dark form towered over him as he stepped into the center of the building. Off to the right crouched the red mass of the German Evangelion. Pacing in front of it was von Zeppelin.

As soon as she saw him enter, she stopped her pacing and rushed over to him, her face eager.

"What is all this about?", she shouted from half way, not even waiting until they were face to face, "Is it a battle? Where is the enemy?"

She looked over his shoulder, as if he had personally brought the enemy with him into the hangar.

Shinji raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"They just sounded a drill. I don't think that there _is _an enemy."

Von Zeppelin's face fell in one of the sudden mood changes that Shinji had learned were common with women in general and von Zeppelin in particular.

"Ah well", she rallied herself and grabbed him by the arm, "it is just as well that you are finally here."

"I have to say", she went on as she dragged him towards Unit 1, "that you have shown very little concern for the reconstruction of Unit 1, considering that you are its pilot. It is imperative that a pilot has a good and solid understanding of the technical issues of Evangelion construction."

"Ah," Shinji began "well, I had a great deal of paperwork to-"

He was not allowed to finish his explanation - or excuse, perhaps, given that his current workload didn't even begin to compare to the weeks before the arrival of the German mission - since von Zeppelin continued her monologue without even acknowledging his interjection.

"-Just how are you going to employ your Evangelion fully if you do not even know what it is capable of? This is a gross oversight, and I will not stand for it!", she finished, hands at her hips and glaring at him.

Thoughts of classes held by von Zeppelin on Evangelion-related subjects came to him, as did tangentially connected thoughts of an early resignation from the Navy. Surely the merchant marine would take him on in some capacity...

"Oh, if it isn't the lost Ensign!" the voice of Lieutenant Hyuga came from behind, in Japanese. Von Zeppelin glared at him, too, and seeing Hyuga glare his way as well Shinji wondered if he should also glare at someone just to complete the picture.

"Anyway", von Zeppelin began anew in French, turning back to Unit 1, "as you can see, your Evangelion has finished reconstruction. It was actually a good thing that it was damaged so bad."

"You really outdid yourself with that one, Ikari. The entire electrical system shot, both legs and most of the lower body missing as well as the right arm and part of the head...", Hyuga said, shaking his head in amazement.

"Since it had to be reconstructed anyway, I convinced your crew Sergeant - he is a Sergeant, right? - to let me do a little refitting.", von Zeppelin said, and Shinji's stomach turned to ice.

"She had us rewire the entire system on new plans...", Hyuga began, but von Zeppelin practically yelled over the top of him.

"_I _redid the electrical system _and _added a backup one for safety and to interface with the new weapons. That created a weight issue, but I fixed it by welding the legs instead of riveting. It's a _masterpiece_, considering what I had to work with!" von Zeppelin exclaimed over the last of Hyuga's mutterings which, incidentally, had been much the same but for ending with a vigorous "it's an abomination!"

Shinji, for his part, could make out little difference between the Unit 1 he was used to and the one he saw before him now.

"So," he said to Hyuga, "does that mean it's ready for battle again?"

Before the Lieutenant could answer, however, yet another voice entered the conversation with an enthusiastic "_That is_ an _excellent _question!"

They turned as one, to see that Captains Ryouji and Ayanami had arrived. They seemed to have brought with them the actual orders for the drill, because Shinji could see a great deal of people running around over the large field in front of the hangar. They seemed to be readying long lines and chains, while the low hum of engines started to fill the air.

Going by what he had seen before the battle against the cube-shaped monster, Shinji assumed that they would be rigging one or both Evangelions for air travel. Testing the reconstructed Unit 1 in this manner while training for rapid deployment made sense.

No warship ever fired its guns on its first sea trial.

What little tension he had felt until now vanished, and he found himself actually looking forward to take the Evangelion - his Evangelion - out again.

"Well", Hyuga began, clearly playing for time, "it's _completely _untested."

"You and your men are very good at what they do. Surely you have faith in your own work." Ryouji answered with a frown on his face.

"We've checked it thoroughly, of course, but we can't know if there are any _hidden_ defects until we test it properly."

"...it'll have to do." Ryouji said, finally, after a few seconds spent making a thoughtful face. Shinji didn't buy it for a moment; the man's mind had probably been made up the moment he'd entered the hangar, if not earlier.

The tension returned in full force.

"Right: Operational orders." the Captain said with an air of long practice, and Captain Ayanami started to murmur something to von Zeppelin - a translation, presumably - whose eyes lit up at her hushed tones.

"We've just received a message from the Fifth Destroyer Squadron in the Japanese Sea that they are tracking a large underwater object. If it continues on its course, it'll make landfall at Akita - some 400 kilometers northeast of here - sometime tomorrow morning."

Yet another monster, Shinji thought, using yet another approach. It seemed like a mistake to him that it would attempt to attack overland, giving up the element of surprise so easily, but then again, what did he know about the minds of such creatures? Perhaps it knew that it was being followed, and now tried to drag its pursuers away from another one?

"Both Evangelions will be air-lifted to intercept the enemy as it comes ashore."

Von Zeppelin said something in German, but neither Captain Ayanami nor Lieutenant Hyuga bothered to translate it.

Naturally, von Zeppelin could not let this stand and spoke - repeating herself? - in French. "That is very silly," she said pointedly "the Eva II can easily engage the enemy in the sea. It is entirely unreasonable to strip the capital of its defenses. What if it is a trap or a diversion? I should handle this myself."

Shinji said nothing. When von Zeppelin opened her mouth to protest, however, he found himself compelled to answer, albeit quietly.

"Captain Ryouji is with the Special Naval Landing Force, so I would assume that he knows when an enemy attacking from the sea is most vulnerable."

Von Zeppelin glared at him, but remained quiet. Still, her last comment did gnaw at Shinji. What if it _was _a diversion? He remembered thinking that each monster attacked in a different way - almost as if a sinister force was directing them, methodically checking Japan's defenses for a weakness to exploit.

If it was a deception, then sending both Evangelions was a grave mistake. But on the other hand, engaging the enemy with equal numbers was hardly a recipe for victory, either. There was a reason why he had always been poor at chess - engaging the enemy with an equal force on limited terrain was just poor strategy.

Or so he would reason whenever he lost _yet another _of those late night chess games against Aida.

No, he decided, the best strategy was actually to wait it out until the enemy made it to Tokyo. The monster would be tired - _if _those things tired - and hopefully wounded from other defenders. On the other hand _they _would be refreshed, ready, and fighting on familiar ground. They would also avoid stripping the capital of its defenses if it was a diversion after all.

He was quite pleased with his conclusion. Fighting to keep a smug smile off his face - he wasn't von Zeppelin, after all - he started to explain his thoughts to the assembled group, but Captain Ryouji stopped him after just a few words.

"I know what you want to say", he said, "and normally I would agree with you. However, Combined Headquarters has decided that we should start rebuilding the capital, and that means all effort must be made to engage the enemy away from the city."

"Besides", he said a bit quieter, "we can't afford to let those monsters run rampant all over the countryside. Just think of our loss of face to the Army!"

"I heard that there was talk about giving the entire Evangelion Project over to the Army just before the last battle", Lieutenant Hyuga added "but that might have just been a rumor."

Now that the standing of the entire Imperial Navy was at stake, Shinji could obviously not press his plan any further. What bothered him, though, were his ambivalent feelings to the rumoured turnover of the program to the Imperial Army. Just before the battle against the cube-shaped Monster, he would have gladly walked away from Unit 1 and seen it in the hands of someone else - though he knew that aboard a ship or at a coastal battery he would have been in _just _as much danger, if not _more _so. At the time, the crushing sense of horror at the prospect of more combat had seemed too large to bear.

But now, he felt a certain unwillingness to give it all up. It was an old saying that soldiers disliked giving up the ground they had bled to take. Perhaps this was something similar. He had bled and suffered plenty enough in the Evangelion to make the thought of seeing it in the hands of a stranger galling.

Outside the Hangar, Shinji could see the the giant silver walls that were the hulls of Zeppelins. One of Hyuga's subordinates hovered at the edge of the group, obviously waiting for them to finish.

Captain Ryouji looked at each of them in turn and asked for any final questions. Seeing that there were none he nodded, leaving the pilots to walk the Evangelions over to be strapped into the Zeppelins' hangars for the flight.

This time, at least, they would be able to board the Evangelion in flight, which meant that they could ride in the Zeppelin itself. It was a calm day and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but Shinji still didn't fancy spending a night strapped into the harness.

"That Airship", von Zeppelin said next to him, "do these people know what they are doing?"

He looked over to where the crew was hurriedly lowering cables to make a harness which could carry the massive war machine.

"The Soryu is one of the best Zeppelins in the fleet, ma'am. In fact, it carried Unit 1 back to base when it was damaged in battle."

"Well", von Zeppelin said with a derisive sniff, "they are rigging the harness all wrong. Hey! HEY! No! Bad! BAD! Baka!", she shouted, storming off to molest some poor crew chief.

Shinji watched her go, feeling a pang of intense sympathy for the poor man about to be hit by the full force of the enraged German. Looking over to Lieutenant Hyuga, he saw that his face reflected much the same sentiment. Their eyes met, and the Lieutenant's features hardened.

"Ensign Ikari", he began with great formality, before grabbing him by the shoulders and bending down to fix him with a piercing look, "whatever you do, bring back the Evangelion in one piece."

"Well", Shinji began evasively, trying to twist out of the older man's grasp, "I'll do what I can..."

"One. Piece. Ikari.", Hyuga repeated, tightening his grip. "Or else."

The 'else', he was sure, meant reams and reams of paperwork. It was the little battle they fought; _he _would wreck the Evangelion and _Hyuga _would strike back in the only way he could, paperwork, in an attempt to make him suffer every bit as much as he did. Shinji gave a mental sigh. One would assume that engineers were men who _enjoyed _working with machines, but apparently Hyuga was something of an an exception to that rule.

He turned away and marched over to Unit 1, where Captain Ayanami already waited.

_Aboard Imperial Japanese Navy Airship Shokaku  
Approaching Akita_  
_September 15, early morning_

It had been another sleepless night for Shinji, not so much because of the unfamiliar surroundings or the nightmares which had become a fixture of his sleep, but for the lingering tension of the coming battle.

If he were to compare the last two battles he had taken part in, he would have much preferred a repeat of the battle at sea rather than the battle over Tokyo. Waiting patiently in the full knowledge that combat was about to ensue was something he found incredibly difficult. It was as if his body wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, filling his mind with a certain kind of restlessness that prevented him from sleeping or relaxing in any way. It was not so much fear - although it was certainly present - as it was uncertainty. How would the battlefield look? What would the enemy do? Would he do what they expected him to, and thereby play right into their hands? Was there anything he could do to turn that to his advantage, or avoid it? The moment battle was joined, all these troubling thoughts disappeared, but until then they seemed to demand ever more of his mental capacity.

Marching to battle, he decided, was an inherently illogical thing to do. Every reasonable human would try and bring as much distance as possible between himself and an enemy. Yet here he was, sitting in a Zeppelin, flying off to meet his enemies head on.

In moments like these, he sometimes started to doubt that he was really cut out for a life in the military. Shouldn't a soldier march towards battle - battle being what he was paid for - eagerly, or at the very least, calmly? Did his nervousness reflect poorly on him as a soldier?

Captain Ayanami, on the other hand, seemed utterly unconcerned by the spectre of combat. After an episode that would have been rather humorous under different circumstances - the officer in charge had found it difficult to billet her, since the Shokaku had no facilities for women and berthing her with men seemed like a bad idea - she had gone straight to sleep that night, only to reappear the next morning, apparently well rested.

He envied her, sometimes.

Unlike the Hiryu, which had carried him to Tokyo all those months ago, the Shokaku was strictly a military Zeppelin. She had two hangars, which normally housed her air group of scout planes, but which now carried the Evangelion as well as gear to allow it to draw electricity from the Airship. All its facilities were located well inside the hull, a windowless cage of metal which only served to increase his sense of isolation and amplify his worries.

He found himself stalking through the ship, through the empty machine shops that normally maintained the planes embarked on her, through the machine spaces where the Flight Engineers controlled the engines, before he finally came to the bridge, the only room with a view.

The view the windows afforded was, frankly, breathtaking as well as disturbing. They were flying over the rolling, mist-shrouded hills of northern Japan. The sun had just made it over the horizon, bathing everything with a thin golden light. Here and there a hilltop rose above the dense fog like a island in an ocean of murky white. A part of him considered it the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, a sight of almost painful tranquility. He almost felt revulsion at their disturbing so beautiful a scene, that they would soon tear up the hills with heavy machinery and rip through the silence with machine gun fire.

The other part of him noted that fog was never a condition in which great military successes were won - on the contrary, history had seen many a superior force lose a battle because of it. It prevented him from seeing how the battlefield looked, and that thought ate at him like no other. The spectre of dark shapes in the fog firing at one another from close range started to haunt him. It was a recipe for disaster. Despite his feelings about von Zeppelin - which, he was sure, were entirely reciprocated - he did not want to shoot her in the murk. Nor did he want to be shot by her, come to think of it, considering the beast of a machine gun he had seen being loaded alongside the German Evangelion.

He looked around for the Captain of the Shokaku, furtively hoping that he would have a wireless message from Captain Ryouji - currently aboard the Soryu - that they were postponing the mission until the fog cleared. To his pleasant surprise, the officer did indeed motion him over with a slip of paper.

"LOST CONTACT WITH TARGET 0748 HOURS", the message read, followed by a set of coordinates where it had been lost. Shinji shuffled over to the card table, where a helpful hand had already marked both their own position and the position of the searching destroyers. The later had been quite close to shore, where tracking a submerged target became virtually impossible.

The ball of ice that had formed in his stomach seemed to grow even larger. What if the enemy had already landed? What if it attacked while they were setting up after landing? All his instincts were screaming to break off, but it was not his decision to make. All he could do was trust Captain Ryouji to come to the same conclusion, assuming that he had no other information that would require a reassessment of the situation.

"Signal from the Soryu:", the signals officer at the rear of the cabin said, and Shinji's heart rose once more.

"Begin maneuver."

His heart sank with the Zeppelin.

_Aboard Imperial Japanese Navy Zeppelin Shokaku  
Near Akita_  
_September 15, early morning_

Strapped into the harness, his eyes fixed on the hangar wall in front of Unit 1, Shinji tried to at least _look _calm. He had quickly realised that an air of eagerness was beyond him.

He wasn't having too much success. His muscles had developed an irritating twitch which he'd tried hard to suppress, but found himself unable to fully control. He had hoped that his worries would cease once he was in the Evangelion and committed to battle, but no such luck. He was closer to danger now, and had just been struck by the fear that he would freeze up, or flip out, or lose his nerve, or just plain screw up.

It was really quite silly, he tried to reason with himself, that a veteran of several battles would be scared of combat. He was a professional, he had done this before. He had been strapped to a burning Zeppelin and kept his head. _This _was disgraceful.

His Copilot had, in her usual fashion, appeared right around the time he had boarded the Evangelion and seemed entirely unfazed by the conditions and the prospect of combat. Though no one would have described her expression as _eager_, either.

The tension - or was it worried boredom? - was broken by a sudden lurch when Unit 1 dropped straight out of the hangar. Apparently, no one had seen fit to send someone to warn them and so Shinji let out a rather unmanly shriek of surprise which he tried, to his credit, to turn into a warcry. Then the Evangelion landed with a loud splash and for a moment he feared that the Zeppelin had missed the coastline and dropped them into the ocean.

But they weren't sinking. Still, he could not see where they were, because at some 30 meters off the ground, the cockpit of the Evangelion was too high to actually see the ground. The cold fog seeped slowly into the open cockpit, and with a sniff Shinji was absolutely certain where they were. The stench of human manure was unmistakable to anyone who had ever travelled near a rice paddy, and rice paddies were everywhere in Japan. After Second Impact, most of the free land had been turned over to grain cultivation to feed the population - although the country still had to import most of its food from overseas.

So they had been dropped right into a field. This told him nothing of where they were - they could be _anywhere _- or where he should be heading. The Soryu had been some 400 metres off their starboard bow, last he heard, but in the time it had taken to deploy the Evangelion that may well have changed.

He took a deep breath and settled on moving towards the 'shoreline'. He figured that their chances of meeting the German Evangelion there were at least better than just standing around waiting for it. The levee would also provide them with some cover for the battle. It was only a small advantage, but Shinji had no intention of fighting this fairly. Which left one problem.

"Where is the shore?", he asked out loud. In the thick fog, he did not even have an idea in which direction he was facing. From behind came the rustling of paper as Captain Ayanami wrestled with the map and the compass.

"It should be about 35 degrees to our right", she said, "but I don't know how far."

Neither did he, but it was good enough for him. They were unlikely to just miss the levee and hit the ocean by accident, anyway.

He tried to bring his left foot forward to turn the machine to the right, but when he tried to rise his leg, the harness only dug deep into his skin. The leg wouldn't budge.

"Is the Evangelion running?", he asked, after a moment of hesitation. It was best to approach such things logically.

"Yes.", Ayanami said flatly. Others might have asked why he was asking a question with such an obvious answer. Von Zeppelin would have, anyway, and would probably have added a long rant concerning the deficiencies of his mental abilities.

"We are running on electric power from the Airship. That is why you don't hear the engine.", she supplied helpfully.

He tried again to raise his left leg, but once more all he got for his troubles was the feeling of the leather straps digging into his leg. At least the whining of the hydraulics told him that the Evangelion was, in fact, trying to follow his movements. He gave his arms a little wave and saw that they were behaving exactly as normal.

That, at least, put to rest the idea that von Zeppelin had screwed up the wiring.

Through the fog came the sound of a great crash that made him pause for a moment. He listened intently, but no other sounds followed. Had it been the sound of von Zeppelin landing? Had she made contact? Was it the sound of her broken Evangelion crumpling to the ground in defeat? Every second of silence seemed to create new and more disturbing images in his mind.

Not that it made any difference while he was stuck in the mud like this.

He redoubled his efforts, and with a strained whine of machinery pushed to the very limit, the left foot wrenched free from the mud. He set it down in a forward step. When he tried to pull the right foot after him, he found his worst fears realized: In his efforts to free one foot, the other had become even more hopelessly mired.

Pulling out the right foot proved even harder than the left, and in the process the left foot dug deep into the mud again. Several minutes later, they had only made it a few steps, and Shinji felt tears of frustration and exhaustion spring up. He angrily blinked them away, but the sentiment remained - they were losing precious time, they had not even engaged the enemy yet or had any idea how the battle was going.

A more reasonable part of him argued that the absence of sounds indicating a battle was actually a good sign, but was summarily ignored. More minutes of strenuous walking - if one could call one step a minute walking - followed, before Shinji saw a sight of almost heavenly beauty.

Through the slowly lifting fog, he could make out what appeared to be a causeway in front of him. He could've wept for joy. After several more exhausting steps he stood triumphantly on the small paved road, breathing heavily and feeling like someone had torn off his legs at the hips. Still, there coursed through his veins a tangible feeling of success which made the pain and the exhaustion - at least for the moment - bearable.

Naturally, that was the moment when a sound like a million pages of paper being ripped in two tore through the air nearby, and glowing tracers cut through the air.

_Imperial German Army Eva II Evangelion, Second Guards Hussars_  
_Near Akita_  
_September 15, 1915, moments earlier_

Every second she spent in Japan made Asuka hate the country more. It wasn't just that she had to do everything herself. It was the damn stupidity of the people she had to work with here, their constant dithering when it was obvious what needed to be done, the always repeated insistence that it should be done 'their way'.

This battle was just the latest highlight. Deploying in the fog with no backup or support was just asking for defeat, and of course that idiot had promptly gotten lost and failed to show up. Or perhaps he had come to the same conclusion she had and bugged out. Orientals were a shifty lot, their inscrutable politeness only serving to conceal their deceptive nature, and most lacked the moral fibre to fight a proper battle. That beings like Ikari and Ayanami should be the first choice of the Japanese nation - and by extension, all of Asia - spoke volumes. She grimaced.

If he really had legged it, that might just raise her opinion of the boy from 'completely useless and also stupid' to 'completely useless and also not very smart'.

Not that it really mattered, she told herself, since the Eva II and her were all that was needed, anyway. Concentration of force was all nice and well, but clearly the Japanese had only a cursory understanding of the concept. She had tried to explain it to the ponytailed officer in command of the naval unit she was attached to - seriously, what kind of country had a navy with its own army? - but he had just smiled and, through a translator, replied that they had some experience with these monsters and that he wanted to maximize the fighting strength against it. Once again, they wanted to do it 'their way' rather than listen to her advice. As if she was a stupid girl with no military training.

She had read the reports the military attache in the German embassy had compiled on these things, of course, and had found herself almost beside herself with laughter. Tall tales of 'an armor of light' had been reported by the Japanese. To her, that sounded suspiciously like someone needed an excuse as to why most of the capital had gone up in flames. The one she fought at sea hadn't had any such defenses, and consequently she had made short work of it - despite that idiot's best efforts to sabotage them all with his incompetence.

Anyway, she had decided to play it safe by bringing the biggest gun in the arsenal. It was, in her opinion, less of a weapon and more of a modern work of art. A Gatling gun with eight rotating barrels of a 75 millimeter calibre, powered electrically by the Evangelion itself, capable of firing up to 3000 rounds per minute. In tests, it had literally chewed through warship-grade armor. In the same tests, it had been found that the weapon did not actually have an effective maximum range - it was limited by what the pilot of the Evangelion could actually see. Anything she could see, she could hit, and anything she hit, she would destroy.

And to think that the Japanese had given their Evangelion a spear. A spear! To think she had thought them a somewhat civilised, rational people. It was a small wonder they hadn't been utterly destroyed yet. It certainly explained the horrific casualties they had taken, most of which they probably could have avoided if they had taken the correct measures.

All in all, the only thing Asuka still needed for a successful battle was the enemy. They stood on the levee that protected the hinterland from the raging sea. Asuka would have preferred to fight it out from one of the hilltops to the rear - no need getting any closer to the enemy than absolutely necessary - but the fog would have made that it a foolish idea, and anyway the Japanese officer with that unpronounceable name had decided that they should deploy right at the waters' edge.

So she had wisely opted to occupy what high ground there was. If the enemy turned out to have ranged weapons, they could always fall back and take cover behind it. Should the enemy prove too strong, the fog would actually make it easy to break contact. Of course, the same was true in reverse. They had to kill them in the first engagement, or else they could easily lose the enemy in the murk - assuming they found them in the first place. They had pretty much counted on it continuing in a straight line, which was hardly a certainty.

She suppressed a sigh and drew a deep breath, scowling when she noticed that the foul smell of the fields behind them had somehow seeped into her Evangelion's pressurised hull. She made a mental note to have its integrity tested or to have air filters installed in the air intakes. With some annoyance it came to her that the Evangelion was not as gas-proof as they had thought. An obvious mistake, really, which made it all the more maddening.

"Contact", Manfred's voice shouted from behind, "straight ahead!"

A moment later, Asuka saw it too: through the mist the outline of a truly gigantic form could be seen, slowly making its way towards them. She licked her lips and fought down the fluttering in her stomach. The thing showed no sign that it had spotted them, but Asuka remained wary.

"What direction is that coming from? Is that the sea?", she asked. From the rear cockpit the sound of rustling paper came as her copilot checked the map.

"If we are where I think we are, then the sea is in the direction we are facing."

Her heart beat a little faster. "How certain are you that we are where you think we are?"

"50%. It's hard to tell without landmarks."

She had to make a call. Maybe it was the enemy. But it was about the right size of an Evangelion, too. Given his other performance, was it so unlikely that the idiot had gotten himself lost, advanced too far, reached the sea and then backtracked when he saw them?

"Good enough."

She raised the gun, slowly, as if too fast a movement would give them away, until it pointed roughly at the target's lower body. With a deep breath, she pushed the button that sent the electric motors of the gun spinning. If it turned out to be Ensign Stupid - well, then he was in for an ugly surprise.

She braced the Evangelion for the recoil, left foot forward, right foot back. It took the weapon only a few seconds to spin up, and then it looked like she was handling a garden hose that was spilling fire. A solid line of tracers showed the path the projectiles took as they left the Gatling gun and slammed into the target. To her relief, there were no sparks coming from it, meaning that what she was hitting probably wasn't metal. She let the recoil of the gun kick it higher, only fighting it a little, and the stream of shells chewed through the body in front of her. Not 5 seconds later, she released the button, and before her stood two halves of her enemy.

No shining armor of light had come to its rescue. There had been no climactic fight, no desperate struggle, just a good, clean kill. She looked at the clock.

"Entire length of engagement:", she said bemusedly to Manfred, "thirty-four seconds."

Her copilot chuckled, but gave no answer.

"Clearly, there is room for improvement."

Manfred cursed, and she craned her head to see what the matter was.

"Look at it! Look!", he shouted, and she whipped back around to see the broken halves of the beast start to...melt, for the lack of a better term. She had expected them to fall over, certainly, but the way the flesh shifted had an extremely unsettling way about it. It did not seem random or governed by physical laws, but almost as if there was a mind behind it, willing the flesh into a new shape.

Asuka, however, shook off her shock quickly and mashed the button for the gun again. Once more she directed the stream of tracers at the two things in front of her.

This time, the effect was instant and decisive. A wall of light sprung up in front of the monsters and sent tracers flying in every direction. Now it was Asuka's time to curse.

Still, she had other options. She triggered the Evangelion's own machine guns, adding yet more volume to the fire. The armor of the enemy would not give in. In desperation, she fired the cable throwers, only to see the hooks bounce off harmlessly from the blasted field of light.

In the span of just a few seconds, things had started looking decidedly unfavorable, and Asuka could feel a cold hand grip her intestines. Still, the enemy did not move, and from what she had seen during its approach, it did not seem too fast. If she played it right, she could pin the enemy in place here, fall back a few hundred meters and repeat the process if the enemy decided to follow. It was not a recipe for victory, but in the few desperate seconds she had, she could not come up with a better option. She withdrew the wires back into the Evangelion and ceased fire with the hull-mounted machine guns, tapping the firing button for the heavy gun to fire in short bursts. Then she started walking, slowly, backwards, until the two forms were barely visible in the fog.

Then she stopped firing altogether, not wanting to give her position away, and with another few steps, slipped into the fog. All this time, the two forms had not moved, content to sit out the barrage behind their impenetrable shield. Now it was just a matter of putting as much distance between herself and her last known position to make sure the monsters wouldn't find her. Then they could rendezvous with the Soryu, resupply, and see if they could take the fight back to them. This had not been a defeat, she decided, but the revealing of a new tactical problem. It would be overcome in time.

Safely hidden from pursuit - if the monsters were even so inclined - she breathed a little easier. It had been a tricky situation, one in which a lesser soldier - a Chinese or Hindu, say - might have broken and run, and Asuka was extraordinarily pleased with herself that she had managed to keep a cool head. After all, one never knew the extent of ones own courage until it was truly tested, and she had most assuredly _not _been afraid during the battle at sea.

"Contact right", Manfred said from behind, sounding rather tense. Perhaps the good Lieutenant had found the battle somewhat more unsettling than she had. It bothered Asuka, frankly, to think that her copilot lacked the nerves for this job.

"How nice", she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "that the Japanese managed to come out on such short notice."

She looked to the right, but there was nothing to be seen in the fog.

"Are you sure it was...", she began, but was interrupted immediately.

"Contact left! Contact left!"

Her head whipped around to the other side of the Evangelion, but once again she could not see anything through the small cockpit window. For a moment, she thought that Manfred had finally lost his nerve and was seeing things.

She felt it more than she heard it. The ground vibrated as something landed close by. Something large that made the ground shake with its weight. She could not pinpoint its location, but her instincts screamed to start moving. If Manfred was right - and he had very good eyesight - she was about to be boxed in and taken in the flank by the enemy. She took a step backwards and seemed to walk into a wall. She gave a squeak of surprise and immediately started forward again.

They managed only one step when everything in the Evangelion went dark. In that instant all became clear to her. The monsters had circled around them and gotten behind her. Now they had cut her cable that ran to the Soryu and supplied them with electricity.

"Start the engine.", she ordered.

Unfortunately for them, it was quite a cool morning. The diesel engine sputtered. Asuka cursed and mashed the ignition again. The engine coughed once more, refusing to start. Then came a brutal shove from behind and they were catapulted forward.

"Manfred, I...!"

_Imperial Japanese Navy Evangelion Unit 1_  
_Near Akita_  
_September 15, 1915, at the same time_

Shinji was growing rather frustrated with this whole affair. They had headed out towards the battle - marching to the sound of the guns. But he had been exhausted, and the Evangelion seemed to have put on a lot of weight - probably mud from the field. He had also wanted to avoid trudging through another as he was not sure he would had the strength to pull them out again. Given the Evangelion's size, one wrong step meant that they could miss the causeway and be stuck again, so their going was even slower. When they arrived on the field, all he could see was a scattering of spent brass casings. There was no sight of either the Germans or the enemy.

Catching his breath, he tried to apply logic to it. Von Zeppelin had fought here, that much was obvious. There was no burnt out hulk of a red Evangelion, so they had not lost. There were no corpses, however, so they had not won, either. He felt like he was in a particularly bad detective novel - Ensign Ikari and the Case of the Missing Corpses. Logically, he concluded, the battle had moved elsewhere, and through the fog he could only see one other causeway leading away from the battle. Assuming that von Zeppelin had not decided to try her luck in the rice fields, it would make sense that she would have fallen back along it.

Unless, of course, she had decided to pursue a retreating enemy back into the sea. After all, she never ceased to mention that her Evangelion - unlike his - could move underwater, and she had made it clear that she would actually prefer to fight there. He sighed. Looking back on the causeway, he could see the large footsteps that could have been made by her Evangelion - but they seemed to lead towards the sea.

It was pointless to overthink it, he decided. Unit 1 couldn't follow her underwater anyway. Following the causeway was the only course of action he had open to him. He started to move, his mind playing out elaborate scenes where von Zeppelin berated him for 'mucking about in the rear' while she was off saving Japan from the horrors of the deep blue sea.

He was therefore a little surprised when he spotted the outlines of a huge figure through the fog, but the surprise soon changed into dread when he saw that there was an equally large figure laying on the ground before it. Even through the fog, he could see that the second form was colored red. From its back hung a length of cable, its frayed end showing that it had been ripped apart.

When the creature towering above the fallen German Evangelion rose its foot to stomp down on it, Shinji felt any thought of tactics slip away. It was not, all things considered, a complex situation. A comrade had fallen and was about to be finished off by the enemy. He was not engaged by superior forces - he was not even engaged at all. He was in a tactically advantageous position, since the monster had its back turned to him. The conclusion, therefore, was obvious.

He leveled the lance and charged.

It was only a short way - not even a hundred meters - but it took time to bring the heavy Evanglion up to speed, and even more so since Shinji's legs had apparently turned into lead. The monster's foot came crashing down when Unit 1 was mere meters away from it. With one more step, Shinji put all the strength that technology could give him into the thrust with the lance.

As could be expected, the lance cut through the enemy's defenses as if they weren't there. Its two points dug deep into the monster's flesh, and its horrified wail sounded over the battlefield and echoed from the nearby hills. Sparing no glance to the fallen Evangelion, Shinji twisted the lance around, inflicting deep wounds from which veritable jets of dark red blood started to pulse. The creature's screams grew even louder.

Shinji forced the Evangelion a step forward, careful not to step on the German machine, trying to drive the enemy off its fallen form. A quick scan suggested its armor had only buckled under the monster's assault, but had not broken. A feeling not unlike relief washed through him even though, he noted absentmindedly, it made very little sense considering who was piloting the thing.

He pressed his attack further, intent on keeping his enemy off balance - quite literally, since the monster impaled on the lance was leaning further and further forward. If he gained the upper hand, he could finish it off on the ground. Strangely, his opponent made no attempt at fighting back, which made Shinji hope that these monsters might feel fear after all. Perhaps this one had just been shocked by the sudden attack and had lost the will to fight after he'd injured it.

But it wasn't trying to run, either. It just screamed and screamed, a sound of such horror and pain that it almost - almost! - made him feel bad about it. Its - terrified? - howling sounded altogether too human for his liking.

He pushed such treacherous thoughts to the back of his mind and he pressed forward, advancing on the enemy. It was now teetering dangerously and with a further step Shinji pushed the mass of the Evangelion against the creature, bringing it down. Shinji yanked the lance free of the monster's body. In that moment, as he stood towering above his fallen foe, he felt reminded of his desperate first battle. But this time, he noted with satisfaction, his Evangelion wasn't falling apart.

It was in that moment of triumph that everything went dark inside the cockpit. The harness grew taunt, constricting him but not letting him move. They had lost all power.

"Was that the electrical system or did we lose the cable?", he asked. Captain Ayanami remained silent.

"Captain?", he tried, unsure if he had gotten her attention the first time.

"He is here...", the Captain whispered from the back seat, barely audible, and Shinji decided that the time for error analysis was over. He pushed the button for the engine, just as a huge shove tipped the Evangelion over. Helpless in his harness without power, he could only watch as the horizon disappeared past the upper edge of his open cockpit.

As luck would have it, they fell off the road and into a rice paddy, which at least softened the blow but also splashed him - and the rest of the cockpit - with foul-smelling water.

Lying in the field, face down, watching the water slowly bubble into the open cockpit, Shinji found himself overwhelmed with the feeling of finality. His own mortality had generally been abstract idea, on those occasions when he had stopped to give it thought. Dreams of heroic self-sacrifice in the Emperor's service had fought and intermixed with the thought of ending his days as an accomplished grandfather of good standing, collapsed in his favorite chair. But he had never really considered death something that might happen to him. Not for a long time, anyway.

That had changed a little when he had started to pilot the Evangelion, when he started to fight. Trapped in the cockpit of his crippled machine, he recalled his despair in the battle against the cube-abomination hanging over Tokyo. He had survived, somehow. He had mentally chalked his survival up to luck alone, and now he had been proven right. No one could be lucky all the time.

But even with close calls happening time and time again, it had been easy to think that his death would be still a good way off... or at the very least, that it would be quick and easy, too fast for him to really appreciate it. A flash of light, or a bang, or a blow to the head... not drowning in a shitty rice paddy.

And now all he could do was lie here and wait for the end.

"We should go.", Ayanami said from the rear seat, her voice back to her normal, flat, tone. Apparently, not even the threat of imminent death got her excited. "_Now_."

Shinji blinked, and immediately felt rather silly. Captain Ryouji's words came back to him. He was not done yet. He had not fought as hard as he could, so he was not allowed to die. Now, the panic he should have felt when they had been ambushed was coming back. Every second he had spent philosophizing he could have spent running. It was a strange thought, he noted, that sometimes his duty was to run away from the enemy.

Ayanami triggered the harness release, making him slump forwards as the wires went slack. Thankfully, the remaining tension caught him before he took another bath in the muddy water. Behind him, his copilot opened the escape hatch and clambered outside while Shinji freed himself from the harness - a process which, during training, took up to several minutes depending on how tired he was, and which he now performed in just a few seconds - and followed.

It was a difficult operation to get out of the cockpit, since the escape hatch was located on top of the Evangelion - now perpendicular to the ground. He stuck out his head and took a quick look around to see if the air was clear. He was struck by the silence. There was not a single sound to be heard - he had expected a cacophony of screaming steel as the enemy tore the German Evangelion limb from limb. He worked himself out further.

As luck would have it, he was halfway out of the hatch when his fingers slipped and he fell - for the second time that day - unceremoniously into the stinking field.

He emerged drenched, cold, deeply frustrated and smelling of shit. In a clear violation of all martial common sense, he walked - upright - right into the middle of the road. Looking around, he saw no sign of the enemy - neither the one he had nearly gutted nor the one which had so nearly killed him. It was as if they had vanished into thin air.

"Where are they?", he whispered, more to himself than out loud.

"Gone.", came the simple answer next to him. Shinji almost jumped from shock, whirling around to see Captain Ayanami, perfectly dry, standing there as if nothing had ever happened. "I can no longer hear them call to me. That means that they have gone away."

He wondered for a moment if he should ask about the enemy 'calling out' to her, but then decided otherwise. An Ensign did not question a Captain. Ever.

Ayanami sniffed.

"You stink."

_Divisional Command Post, Imperial Japanese Army 44th Infantry Division_  
_50 Kilometers south-west of Akita_  
_September 15, 1915, early afternoon_

Colonel Himeno was not having the best of days. In fact, today was well on its way to making number one on his Shittiest-Days-Ever-List. But then again, there was that time when the Chinks blew the Yangtze dykes. That was a couple months of shitty days right there. So maybe number two, if you counted all that as one big thing. One had to keep things in perspective. Of course, the day wasn't over yet. It could still get worse.

Of course, one could always count on the Navy to fuck up an otherwise perfectly good day. The Division had been out in the field, conducting their exercises - simple stuff really, just keeping the regimental columns on the right roads, not losing the artillery train, navigating by landmarks. Just enough to get the new Lieutenants to screw up a little so that they might learn a lesson or two while the brass had a nice day in the countryside.

It had been going really swell until a messenger in a staff car pulled up to where the division commander had made rest and handed over a sealed note. The Navy had engaged some sort of sea monster - no surprise, that what they were paid for - and had been beaten.

No surprise there, either.

"And of course they don't say a single fucking word of this to anyone before." he muttered. "We're just the guys defending this area - _nope_, not important enough. Gods-damn arrogant sons of catamites."

He kicked a small rock into the valley.

"And who do they come for when they screw up? Us, of course."

Normally, he would have refrained from showing his temper out in the open - it was bad form - but there was no one within hearing range, and sometimes one just had to blow off some steam.

The tactical situation, at least, was clear enough. The enemy had landed near Akita and was expected to move on Tokyo. That meant that he would probably funnel through the very valley he was overlooking. Not that the Navy had been able to provide any more information. The fucking jokers had even had the gall to say that the expected enemy strength was one individual. That bunch of girls couldn't fight a single invader. Ridiculous.

He briefly wondered if he was being unfair to girls.

A staff car halted behind him, disgorging a General - his superior - and a very pale looking Major - the divisional artillery officer. The latter was new, his predecessor having died a heroes death at the battle for Tokyo courtesy of His Imperial Majesty's Most Incompetent Navy.

He saluted the General, who looked at him expectantly. Himeno was the Divisional Executive Officer, and therefore was supposed to tell his boss how they were going to win this battle.

"We put up a Regiment each on this hill and that one", he said, pointing to the hill on the other side of the valley.

"The enemy has to march through here if he wants to attack Tokyo. We dig in the guns along the road so they can provide direct fire support, if necessary. Then we funnel them into the killzone in between the Regiments and pin them down."

He used a stick to draw a crude tactical map in the dirt at their feet.

"One Regiment stays in reserve. When the time comes, we cut the road behind them and annihilate them."

"Simple. But we have little time.", the General said, which was as good as an order. He turned to the Major.

"We...ah...we received some new information while you were off on reconnaissance...", the man said, appearing deeply uncomfortable. He handed over a small slip of paper with the air of deepest regret.

Himeno unfolded the paper, noting the Imperial Seal on one corner. The Japanese that was used was a very old, almost archaic dialect - a message from the Emperor Himself, perhaps.

It read, "Following the most regrettable defeat of our valiant Naval forces, we have decided that no measures should be spared in the defend of this our most beloved National Polity. It is therefore with the utmost regret and hesitance that we, acting as we do out of concern for you our subjects, authorize the use of Special Ammunition."

Himeno understood why the Major had turned pale. Poison Gas. On Japanese soil. Today had without doubt just made the top of the list.

"Have we..." His mouth had suddenly become dry. "Have we received the Special Ammunition?"

The Major nodded. "A full train of it. I've put up guards and started to unload."

"Very well,", Himeno said, trying to tie in gas into his battle plan. He looked around. There was little wind, and the bottom of the valley should be fairly calm. Good conditions to employ gas. Wouldn't want it blowing in on their own positions.

"Once we bring them to a halt, we will fire the gas shells. Make sure you get a good mix."

Mixture of gas types was a very important part of planing. Some poisons could be affect the body by simple contact on any exposed surface, others had to be breathed in. Therefore, a contact poison causing nausea could be used to make the enemy take off his mask to vomit, whereupon he would breath in the actual, deadly, poison. Japanese soldiers, of course, were too disciplined to do that. They would rather choke on their own vomit.

"A good plan.", the General said. "You may proceed with it."

Something caught Himeno's eye. Near the entrance of the valley, it seemed as if a hill was moving all by itself. He frowned, and for a moment feared that there had been an accident unloading the gas shells and that he was suffering from hallucinations. It wouldn't be the first time that something like that had happened. He recalled a man foaming pink at the mouth, yelling about yellow elephants dropping out of Zeppelins.

Then he raised his binoculars to check - after he made sure he had his gas mask close by. What he saw made him hope that there had been an accident, because there was, apparently, a giant monster coming his way. It was walking on two legs and had two arms, but that was where its similarities with humans ended. It was of a metallic gray, with an oddly shaped object buried inside its chest. He had never seen nor heard of anything like it.

As he was reaching for his gas mask, staff officers around him noticed it as well and began pointing it out to one another. It was, therefore, unlikely to be an illusion of a poisoned mind.

He was not sure if that was a comforting thought.

"Change of plans.", he said to the Major who stared in mute horror at the beast strolling unconcerned up the valley, "Fire everything you have, as soon as you can. Get every gun to bear on that thing."

Mentally, he apologized to his Navy colleagues. It was obvious that neither girls nor amateurs could stand against such a... _thing_ as this.

**A/N:** So ends the sixth chapter of A Century Apart. I owe great thanks to MAI742, whos help in editing and preventing atrocities against the English language proved invaluable. As always, any and all comments are welcome and appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

_Aboard __Imperial __Japanese __Navy __Airship __Soryu_

_On __course __towards __Tokyo_

_September__ 15, 1915, __late __afternoon_

An odd sense of deja-vu coursed through Shinji. A few hours ago, he had been dreading the outcome of a dangerous and quite possibly lethal confrontation. Now he was doing much the same, standing in the briefing room of the _Soryu _and waiting for Captain Ryouji and the German Evangelion crew to join him. And he was already wishing that it would be over.

There were two conflicting opinions doing battle within his mind. On the one hand, he couldn't really be found at fault in their defeat. It had been foggy, his Evangelion had been stuck in the mud and he had been forced to make a hasty attack on the enemy to save a comrade. Given the last battles, it had been entirely reasonable to assume that the monster would be alone. Anyone in his situation would have made the same mistakes.

On the other hand, the Emperor had entrusted him with the only weapon capable of killing these monsters, and he had failed in his duty. Honor demanded that he took responsibility, admitted his failure and asked to be relieved. Perhaps they could find someone better suited for this job. Either way, his career had probably taken a turn for the worse today. He chuckled a little - only a few hours ago, it had looked like he might die a hero's death on the field of glory. Certainly that was the highest fulfillment of duty, a sarcastic part of his mind commented. No one ever criticized the dead for dying.

Staring at the map of Japan pinned on the wall, he wondered if he hadn't been mistaken about the nature of his duty. Everything he had been taught pointed to death on the battlefield as part of his duties, should the situation require it. That the situation required it was, of course, taken for granted. But now he wasn't so sure. Whether he had wanted to or not, he was probably one of the few people in the Japanese military who were qualified to pilot an Evangelion into battle. Had he died on the field today, who would have replaced him? It was a somewhat disturbing thought, that he could actually be required to run away from battle if victory could not be achieved. But it was, at least, an argument to be made in his defense. Certainly, that was how Captain Ryouji would see things as well. Had the Captain not ordered him to fight as hard as possible, and not to sell his life cheap? If so, then a death in battle today would not have helped the defense of Japan any.

The possibility of being stripped of his position still stung, however. Despite the horror that combat brought with it, being found unfit or incompetent to serve in a front line unit hurt the ego he did not even know he possessed until now. Over the last few weeks, he had found himself taking a perverted sense of pride in his position as pilot of Japan's only active Evangelion, which made giving it up a great deal harder.

The door flew open, and something resembling a live grenade stormed inside.

"YOU!" von Zeppelin shouted from the top of her lungs, "YOU! Have quite a bit of nerve to show up here! Rarely has one seen such insolence, such incompetence, such sheer and utter stupidity! This is your fault! It is entirely your fault! I won't take the blame for this! I won't! And once my government hears of this outrage, you can watch your career sail off into the sunset!"

Shinji sighed. He was not yet sixteen, and he already felt too old for this. "You're welcome." he said, feeling no particular reason to reign in his sarcasm today. He felt a headache forming, he had slept little, eaten less, was utterly exhausted and had also almost been killed only hours earlier. Decency, patience and politeness could wait until breakfast tomorrow.

"What would I be thankful for, baka?" von Zeppelin spat back. "Your little antics cost us the battle. It was a perfect example of the stupidity I have come to expect of this outfit. He was in the perfect situation to win the fight, and he blows it because he did. Not. Think."

"Enlighten me", Shinji said, still trying to keep at least a minimum of politeness in his voice. It was getting harder with every word.

"You had the enemy in front of you, and you charged without thinking! Did you honestly believe, did you _honestly_ believe, that I would be beaten by a single enemy? Obviously I was ambushed! But no, my name is Simon, I know better! I'm a tactical genius! Watch me storm in like a complete idiot and get my face punched in! The Imperial Navy comes to save the day!"

"Shinji," he said, "my name is Shinji."

"Whatever. You're going to be Ensign Stupid from now on."

"So I should have just left you there to die?"

Von Zeppelin's mood shifted from a raging firestorm to an icy blizzard in an instant. The look in her blue eyes seemed to chill the very air between them. He involuntarily took a step back, his back pressing against the wall, but von Zeppelin immediately pressed her advantage, moving closer to him until their faces were only millimeters apart.

"What?", she said icily, "Do you think I am some kind of damsel in distress?" She grabbed the collar of her uniform with both hands, holding her rank insignias up for him to see. "Does this look like a dress to you? In case you had not noticed, these things mean I am a Lieutenant of the Second Guards Hussars of the Imperial German Army, and last I checked _you_ were just a shitty little trainee of some second line outfit. Did you expect me to wander around the battlefield, begging for a handsome, industrious and polite Japanese Ensign to save me, no _save_ me, _please_, there is a most terrible _monster _coming after me? Grow up, asshole. I would rather die than be saved by the likes of you!"

"Did you just call me handsome?" he asked, while part of him marveled at his own stupidity.

"Don't be a baka," she said testily, "that was just an example."

She turned around and stomped off, and in the short moment he could see her face, he could have sworn that she was blushing. But, obviously, he had to have imagined things. It had clearly been a flush of exertion, he decided, because von Zeppelin probably wasn't even able to blush.

"Girl trouble?" a new voice asked next to him, and Shinji looked over to see her Copilot, nursing an amber drink smelling strongly of alcohol. Where he had found it, Shinji had no idea, but finding alcohol in unlikely areas seemed to be his greatest skill. He looked a little pale, but seemed quite good natured otherwise.

"I don't understand how this was my fault." Shinji answered.

"Well, you are a man. She is a woman. That means it is naturally your fault." He laughed, but Shinji couldn't quite see the humor in it. "For what it is worth, I am grateful for your rescue. But I do agree with her - your first priority should be to kill the enemy."

"But I tried!", Shinji retorted angrily. Did the Germans all think he was some snotty-nosed, untrained school boy, snatched up at a train station somewhere to be placed in the cockpit of the Evangelion just at the whim of his father?

"Oh, don't worry about it too much. We live to fight another day. That is also good. And don't worry about her, either. Asuka just needs to prove to everybody how tough she is. She got beaten, and that angers her more than anything. As soon as she is back in the fight, she won't ride you quite as hard." He chuckled. "Unless you ask her, of course."

Von Zeppelin had to have heard that last comment, because a shriek of feminine rage cut through the room. Looking over, Shinji saw her giving them both the most foul look he had ever seen from her.

"Guess now I am a baka, too", the German said, and wandered off to take a seat in the second row of chairs. Von Zeppelin moved to sit several seats away.

Moments later, Captains Ayanami and Ryouji marched into the room, the latter carrying a piece of paper. Judging from the look on his face, the news were not good. He moved to the small podium at the front of the room.

"Good news first:" he said, his face showing that he didn't consider the news anything but dire, "the Army says they have stopped the enemy with minimal casualties. Apparently, poison gas is somewhat effective against these things."

"So that's it?" Shinji blurted out without waiting for the Captain to finish, "We just had to gas them?" He could hardly believe his ears. All this time, while countless people had sacrificed themselves, they had had the solution to their problems in their hands! Unbidden, he remembered the smell of the burned soldier in the hospital bed after the battle with the cube-shaped monster, limbless and spending the last few moments on earth in unimaginable pain. He felt an indescribable bitterness well up inside him as he swallowed the bile that had risen together with the memory. It could have been avoided. All of it could have been avoided.

"_That_ is the bad news:", Ryouji answered, "It looks like it isn't quite dead. The Army reports that the monster advanced into the gas cloud, slowed down and then stopped. However, it still shows movement and seems to be recuperating already, despite the shelling. I have dispatched a request for comment to Dr. Ikari back in Tokyo. Hopefully, she will have something more definite when we arrive."

Why Ritsuko should be the one he would ask, Shinji had no idea. Surely the University of Tokyo would have someone better suited to comment on the biology of marine lifeforms. Granted, she was the First Home Defense Fleets Chief Medical Officer - but these things had so little to do with humans that, in his opinion, the chief veterinarian officer would be just as able. Probably more so, even.

"As for us, we are going back to Tokyo for refit and repairs. I intend to attack the enemy again as soon as repairs are finished and destroy him before he can advance further." He looked at Shinji, then at von Zeppelin, who glared at him. "Now, I would like your opinions of what went wrong. We probably won't have time for the usual paperwork and report-writing, so we will do it here and now." He didn't sound too unhappy about it. "Ensign Ikari, please."

Shinji drew himself up to his full height and gave his crumpled uniform a little tug to straighten it. He had always considered Maneuver Criticism to be his strongest suit - it was always easier to analyze what had gone wrong after the fact than it was to do it right in the first place.

"Well, I would put it down to two factors, really. One was the poor weather, which made finding the enemy difficult and resulted in a separation of force leading to a defeat in detail. The other was the unexpected complication of enemy numbers. This is the first time the enemy attacked with more than one unit. It was a foolish mistake to make, but probably unavoidable given the past battles." It was a common saying that the military always prepared to fight the previous war, because it was so difficult to predict just how things would change.

He waited for Ayanami's quiet translation to end. Even from where he was standing, the tremors in her body made it obvious that Mount von Zeppelin was headed for a major eruption. He was not disappointed. Ayanami had barely finished her translation when the German pilot leapt to her feet.

"Lies! Lies!" she screamed, oblivious that she was shouting in French, which meant that Ayanami couldn't translate and Ryouji would not understand her. "I will tell you what the damn problem is! That idiot" - she pointed an accusing finger towards Shinji - "doesn't know the first thing about Evangelion combat! He threw away a perfect tactical advantage because of his stupid concept of personal honor. That is the damn problem, right there! You guys think this is some sort of chivalry contest instead of a fight to the death! It's more important to you to look like you are doing something than it is to actually fight properly! As long as you won't approach this rationally, you are going to lose time and time again, and I will have no part in that!" After she had finished her tirade, she turned on her heel and marched straight out of the room, slamming the aluminium door for good measure.

"Well?" Captain Ryouji said to Shinji, his voice wary beyond measure. Shinji decided not to make matters worse than they already were. Although his patience with von Zeppelin's antics was growing short as well, her words did give him pause: What if he was approaching this whole thing wrong? She had been wrong about the whole honor thing, of course, because as far as he could remember, he had never done anything in the Evangelion because it was honorable - but the accusation that he hadn't been entirely rational was harder to shake. He barely had time to think things through in combat. Perhaps she had been right, and this would mean more defeats in his future. A sobering thought, given that every defeat carried the chance of death or crippling injury, and that they were the last - and really, _only_- line of defense.

"She agreed with me" he finally said. Ryouji looked skeptical, but said nothing.

"Very well. We will discuss the new battle plan when we reach Tokyo. Dismissed" he said and left the room, Ayanami trailing in his wake. The German simply took off his boots and lay down across the empty row of seats, while Shinji went to find a place to have a bit of solitude, and to think.

_Keel __Residence_

_Munich__, __Germany_

_September__ 16, 1915, __early __morning_

They sat in silence around the table, each of them hidden by his own cloud of tobacco smoke and trapped in the maze created by his own imagination running rampant. It had been a long night, and they weren't as young as they used to be.

"Well," said one of them, "if we lost, we'd know by now." No one answered.

A few days ago, the team translating the Dead Sea Scrolls had stumbled across the date of the next attack. After double-checking it, debating about the correct translation of certain terms, cross-checking it against historical evidence, star charts and ancient calendars and ultimately waiting for the right moment, they had finally sent a message to Japan to warn them.

"It is foolish to trust Ikari like this. He has full control of all information that comes to us." said another. A few murmurs of agreement came from others. They had made the same argument time and time again during the night, while they waited for news from Tokyo.

The last news from Ikari had been a terse message that both Evangelions had been dispatched to deal with the Angel, and that contact would be made by early morning local time, which meant early evening in Germany. After that, nothing. Was the battle still underway? Was it over? Had it even taken place? In the desert of information they were in, everything seemed at once possible, but improbable. Over the long hours, they had visited and revisited every argument for or against any conceivable outcome.

"Measures have been taken to ensure a second channel of communications from within the First Home Defense Fleet." Keel said, as he had done several time before. They were running in circles now, as they had for most of the night.

"I still say that we should replace Ikari with someone closer to the society." said a third. Keel fought to keep his eyes from rolling. "And we should push to get access to the Katsuragi girl. She, and she alone, knows what happened." The room descended into silence again.

"It is imperative that we, and not the Angels, control the reclamation of Eden." said the first one again, after a few minutes had passed. Privately, Keel agreed with him. It was basic military logic to try and maintain the initiative rather than be forced to react. Unfortunately for them, they were forced to do just that. They could only endure. The last test before mankind made good the mistake of Adam and Eve. One had to earn one's happy endings, after all.

"Ikari will keep them from achieving it." Keel said. "He is devoted to his country and will stop at nothing to see it saved. For now, our interests run in the same direction."

"What about the Urija option? We _must_ know what happened at the pole. It might get her to speak..." said the third.

The second snorted in disgust. "Knowing the Japanese, it might also drive her to suicide instead. Then we would never know. And besides, she was only a child back then. She probably doesn't comprehend what happened" he said.

"I fail to see the difference between not knowing because she doesn't talk or not knowing because she is dead, to be quite honest." answered the third.

A knock sounded from the door. Keel rose on aching knees and went to open it. His servant stood there, holding out a dispatch. Keel took it with a shaking hand. The delay was ominous indeed. He tried to tell himself that it was probably just technical difficulties with the transmission. He was not entirely successful. Keel waved the deaf man away and closed the door.

"A message from Admiral Ikari." he said, "It reads: First attack has failed, stop. Forces falling back on Tokyo for final defense, stop. Inform me of new developments, stop."

"The insolence of that man!" shouted a fourth, who had so far remained quiet, "Does he think we are his lackeys?"

"Ikari must be brought to heel." Keel agreed, "But not now. To do so during an Angel attack would jeopardize all we have worked for." The men nodded in silence, chewing on unlit pipes with worried faces. Failure against the Angels! It was the stuff of nightmares. Everything hung in the balance now. And there was nothing they could do but wait. It was a little ironic. Usually, it was _them_ who pulled the strings. to be powerless like this was a feeling they had almost forgotten. Perhaps, Keel thought, they weren't masters of their own destinies after all.

"Even if he has overstepped his boundaries," said the first, after a few minutes had passed in silence, "we must consider sending more forces. Our victory against the Angels must be secured, for if we lose against them, we lose everything." Once more, the others nodded their agreement. "I should have thought that sending the production type would be enough." said the third, "How are we going to justify sending another to the public?"

Keel frowned. It wasn't that they couldn't do it - they had steered German policy through far more radical course changes - but it might bring more attention on them, and attention was not something they wanted. For now, the German public thought the war against the Angels something far away, something that only concerned them very tangentially, something that wasn't really a war at all. It had been bad enough when an Angel had sunk several ships during the Battle of the Japanese Sea (as it was known), some of which had been lost with all hands. But that Angel had been killed, and the thirst for revenge had been sated. To send a second Evangelion - or perhaps even a third, to bring the strength up to full squadron of four and allow Ikari a greater deal of flexibility - would raise questions. Questions they would rather avoid being asked, like who or what they were fighting. Better to keep the people happily ignorant, or, failing that, occupied with other, more imminent threats - like France. Of course, that raised the problem of looking like they were stripping their defenses in favor of helping the Japanese. They had to find a different approach.

"We can arrange for the Americans to send a unit" said the first, "but it must be kept secret." One by one, the others nodded. It was agreed, then.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Headquarters__, __Office __of __the __Chief __Operations __Officer_

_Tokyo__, __Japan_

_September__ 16, 1915, __early __morning_

"Dancing." Shinji said, as calmly as he could. "We're facing a giant enemy who can split in two and you want me to dance." Once again, he wondered if Captain Ryouji was an exceptionally good SNLF Officer or an exceptionally dumb one, and if those two were really mutually exclusive.

"As I said, Ikari. The problem, it seems, was one of coordination. I have Hyuga working on a way to build a radio set into the Evangelions, but he said it'd take weeks and would probably only work half the time. So we have to come up with a way to coordinate two Evangelions without them talking to one another. You two need to trust each other blindly. Each of you will have to know instinctively what the other will do. And we don't have much time. Therefore, dancing. Besides, Ikari, come on. Cute girl in your arms. Soft music. Why, anything could happen!" He forced a winning smile.

"Permission to speak freely?" Shinji asked after a moment's consideration. Ryouji nodded. "Sir, have you _met_ von Zeppelin?" He nodded once more, his winning smile vanishing in seconds. "And you _still _consider this a good idea?" Of course, Shinji realized, the Captain wasn't the one who would have to break the news to von Zeppelin. Suicide missions were usually left to the lower ranks.

"You don't?" Ryouji asked. Shinji pondered his answer for a second, trying to find a way to make 'No, and I consider it _insane__' _sound more polite. "I..." Shinji began, playing for time.

Ryouji gave a sigh and rubbed his temples while Shinji quietly congratulated himself for remaining firm. Dancing. How far had the Imperial Navy fallen that _dancing_ was now its last, best hope of success? "Listen, Ikari, if you have a better idea on how to beat the enemy, I'm willing to listen."

Shinji chewed on his lip in thought. "Well, we fought the first battle under very poor conditions..."

Ryouji waved him off. "The attacker chooses where and when to fight. I know you want to tell me to just wait here and let them come to us. War doesn't work like that." Shinji frowned.

"With due respect, Sir, I am very confident that we can beat them as long as we fight on firm ground and with good visibility, as opposed to fog and mud like we did last time."

Ryouji snorted. His facial expression had turned distinctly sour, and Shinji wondered if he had overstepped the unspoken boundaries that existed between them. "So, Ensign Ikari, graduate of His Imperial Majesty's Naval War Academy, considers the proper strategy for the ultimate battle, on which the survival of the entire nation of Japan rests, to be 'Lets hope the weather is nice and the enemy is stupid.' Marvelous, Ikari. A strategic masterpiece, if I do say so myself. Clearly, the nation has nothing to fear as long as as men like you are there to defend it." Towards the end, his voice had been dripping with condescension, and Shinji could feel his face heating up.

He said nothing. Ryouji's comments were not entirely without merit, a traitorous part of him commented. It was true, he had essentially based his plan around the assumption that the enemy would make a mistake, such as not coordinating close enough. That was not, in his opinion, entirely unreasonable - Wars, a teacher had once told him, were won by the side that screwed up the least. He had no doubt that they could each beat one of the enemies by themselves. And had he been of a higher rank, Shinji would have commented that at least _his_plan didn't involve _dancing_.

Ryouji bent forward, placing both hands on the table, pushing himself up and staring Shinji down. Shinji could feel his mouth go dry. Ryouji was sporting a look unlike anything he had ever seen on him. It was downright..._professional_. "Ensign Ikari, this is not a request or a suggestion; I am _ordering_you. You will learn to dance with Lieutenant von Zeppelin, or I will see you punished for high treason." Shinji could feel cold sweat break out. High treason was a tall order. Insubordination, he could understand. Unbecoming conduct because he was arguing with a superior, maybe. But Ryouji was, apparently, willing to have him _shot_because he refused to dance!? Considering his superior's well-known animosity towards all forms of paperwork, his willingness to go through an entire court martial for something that seemed so silly did make Shinji reconsider. For what it was worth, the Captain obviously believed that it was absolutely necessary to their victory.

"Now, Ikari, will you follow that order, or do I have to do something I'd regret?" he said in a low voice. For a brief moment Shinji wondered if the rumors about SNLF officers and their informal policies in combat zones were true. His eyes involuntarily settled on the Captain's sidearm. Disobeying soldiers, it was said, would be shot for cowardice if they refused an order in combat. And deployment to Tokyo, he suddenly remembered as his stomach turned to ice, _was _officially considered just that. He nodded, well aware that he probably looked like a proverbial rabbit staring down a snake. Then, with courage bordering on the suicidal, he opened his mouth.

"I would like that in writing, please."

There was no way he could face von Zeppelin bare handed and survive.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet__, __Tokyo __Base__, __Junior __Officer __Housing __Area_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 16, 1915, __late __morning_

It was an odd feeling of apprehension that ran through him as he stood before the door to the room assigned to von Zeppelin. Being a woman, she had originally been assigned a room with the Naval Auxiliary Service. Naturally, von Zeppelin had not taken it well at all and had complained about it in her usual fashion, so she was now housed in one of the few rooms left intact in a battle-damaged building. In effect, it meant that she had most of the building to herself, a luxury normally reserved for officers far above her rank.

Which was to say that she considered it barely adequate.

At the moment, however, Shinji was quietly glad that she was living a little secluded. It meant that there was a smaller chance that someone would see him make a fool of himself. He had been standing in front of her door for a good twenty minutes now, wracking his brain for a strategy to survive the coming battle. He was feeling sillier with every passing minute, yet for some reason, he could not bring himself to knock just now. In fact, he was very busy finding new excuses to waste time, checking and rechecking if his uniform was in order. For a brief, _mad _moment, he wondered if he should get some flowers.

If pressed, he would have found it difficult to say just what was holding him back - he had the written order he had asked for and had even taken the liberty of adding a French-language translation so von Zeppelin could understand it. But that would have been necessary anyway, since Captain Ryouji's handwriting left a lot to be desired. Standing before her door he was feeling the same sense of dread normally reserved for those restless hours before a battle.

He had gone through the rigorous training at the best Officer Academy in the country, which prided itself on its comprehensive curriculum, and which claimed to have prepared him for all eventualities of service. _Why__, _he despaired, had they never taught him how to deal with these kinds of situations? How was he expected to deal with them if no-one had seen fit to teach him?

He shook his head sadly, pushed any thought about the various failures of his education to the back of his mind and gathered his courage. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. Seconds stretched into eternity as he waited for a response, desperately pondering if it would be acceptable to knock again, or if he should take the hint and leave. Then he remembered that he was not actually here for her pleasant company. When had the words 'pleasant' and 'von Zeppelin' even entered into the same logical construct?

Just as he was about to decide that she was not in her room and leave to search for her in the hangar - making the prospect of delivering the orders all the more terrifying since it would probably have an audience - the door opened, and a slightly irritated von Zeppelin looked at him, idly rubbing at an ink stain on her finger.

"We must dance" he said, holding out the folded order. Von Zeppelin looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and slammed the door shut. In hindsight, he decided, his choice of words was perhaps not as good as it could have been. In fact, it had been downright idiotic.

All things considered, however, it had gone better than expected, he decided. No one had been killed or maimed. A rare occurrence in military matters, as well as matters concerning Germans in general and von Zeppelin in particular. Looking down at the paper in his hand, he sighed. Defeat was not an option. He knocked again.

The door flew open, revealing a somewhat more irritated von Zeppelin. "I'm under orders..." he began anew, but the rest of the sentence was swallowed by the crash of the door slamming in his face. He felt his eye twitch ever so slightly. He knocked once more. The door flew open once again and von Zeppelin glared at him, arms folded across her chest.

"Look, _b__aka_, the correct way to do this is asking 'Lieutenant von Zeppelin, would do me the honor and the _pleasure _of gracing me with your presence for a dance?' Since your French is so bad, I will even allow you to say something like 'I would like to dance with you'" she said. In an act of greatest magnanimosity, Shinji decided not to inform her that he had, in fact, finished his French lessons as third-best of a class of forty cadets.

"I have to admit, though, that claiming to be under orders is a somewhat cute but immature idea. But I don't dance with boys who need to hide behind such things because they lack courage. If you want to dance with me, ask properly, and then maybe, _maybe_, I will consider it" she said, slamming the door slightly less forcefully this time.

Shinji took a deep breath. His eyes quickly darted up and down the deserted corridor on either side of him. Then his hands darted forward and clamped down around the neck of an invisible, red haired girl, crushing her windpipe, squeezing the life out of her ethereal body. It was with savage satisfaction that Shinji imagined the life leaving her strikingly blue eyes, her trademark smirk vanishing from her lips as she died. As soon as the urge had come, it was gone. Shinji took a deep breath and put his uniform in order.

Tactics. The smart officer, the Academy had taught him, made a plan and then forced the enemy to conform to it. Von Zeppelin had assumed that he was here on a private matter and had hidden behind a made-up order. Part of him idly mused how it might be to ask her for a real dance, maybe sometime when they weren't between battles. After all, this war was going to end one day. It was easy to be courageous enough to ask her out in a daydream. But, he reminded himself, he was here on orders and also actually wanted as little to do with her as possible. Thus, the option of playing along with her delusions was out of the question.

He knocked once again and drew himself to full attention. The door opened, and a very bemused-looking von Zeppelin stared at him as he delivered what had to be his smartest salute to date. "Orders for you, ma'am." he said, holding out the folded paper. Von Zeppelin rolled her eyes and grabbed the sheet of paper. "That is in Japanese." she noted dryly as she unfolded it. "A nice try, though. But really, you couldn't find something that looked a little more official? This looks like a letter. To your mother, perhaps?" Shinji almost bit a chunk out of his cheek as he bit down to keep his composure. "There is a translation at the bottom", he said as calmly as he could. "In your handwriting" she answered with a smirk.

Shinji took a deep breath. "I assure you, Ma'am, that I don't take the least amount of pleasure in doing this." He tried to look sufficiently unhappy to be here, and found it quite easy. Something in von Zeppelin's face shifted, and for a second, he thought he could see something like disappointment on it. There was a pang of guilt somewhere in the back of his mind, and for a silly moment, he was about to blurt out an apology, an assurance that he had not meant to hurt her, and that _of __course_ it would be an immense pleasure for him to take her out to dance. He blinked, and it was gone.

"Orders, hmm?" she asked, examining the paper once more, reading slowly as if to find the one small mistake that would give his game away. "Well, I suppose this does look official" she said, holding the slip into the light. Shinji had no idea what she was looking for, but if it meant that they could finally move past this farce, he was all for it. "I have a letter to finish. I will be in the hangar in 20 Minutes, for our..." she said, her lips curled into a cruel smile, "dancing lessons."

And with that, she slammed the door in his face again. Softly, Shinji rested his aching head against the cool wood, and wondered why he couldn't work with a _normal _girl for a change.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet__, __Tokyo __Base__, __Hangar__ 2_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 16, 1915, __about __half __an __hour __later_

He paced the length of the hangar like a rat in a cage. She was late. Of course she would be late, his mind assured him, because that was the course of action that would maximize his embarrassment. Captain Ryouji had planted himself against one of the giant doors and looked less and less friendly with every passing second.

In Shinji's increasingly paranoid mind, Ryouji's glances through the hangar had started to look as if he was choosing soldiers for a firing squad. Salvation came at last when he spotted a certain red mop of hair across the grounds. Von Zeppelin seemed in no hurry to get there. A short glance to Ryouji's towering form showed that his face had darkened even further.

Shinji briefly considered running over to her to get her to hurry up, but decided that it would show an entirely inappropriate amount of enthusiasm. And besides, it wasn't like von Zeppelin would actually hurry up just because he asked her to. So he settled for mentally willing her to go faster. The effect was about the same.

"And here I thought the Germans were supposed to be very punctual." Ryouji said as von Zeppelin strolled into the hangar as if she had just come over for a casual visit. He started to move towards the blackboard set against the hangar wall. Shinji moved to follow him, tactfully deciding that he was not yet supposed to translate. No need to spark yet another incident, after all. Suddenly, his mind noted that he was going to be _dancing __with __her_. This would not have been as bad had he known how to dance. He wondered if it was really too late to argue the point with his commanding officer, because now that the deed seemed imminent, it sounded even more terrible than ever.

"I'm sorry for being late," von Zeppelin said cheerfully in French as she fell in with them, "But I think ten minutes won't make much of a difference, anyway." Shinji remained quiet. "So what's all this, then?" she asked, making a gesture towards the blackboard towards which the Captain was leading them. "I thought we were going to be dancing. I got all excited, even" she continued with a smirk, and Shinji shuddered at the thought of her being excited. He still remembered the last time he had seen her _excited__,_ when she had tried to break in the giant sea monster attacking the fleet like one would a common horse.

"Right." Ryouji said and cleared his throat, "I am now going to brief you on the offensive operation that will commence in no less than 10 days, the goal of which will be to engage and destroy the hostile creature currently immobilized near Akita." Ryouji paused to let Shinji translate. Privately, Shinji was most glad to hear the news. 10 days were plenty to learn how to dance, and would reduce the time he spent with von Zeppelin every day to a minimum.

"As well you know, the enemy proved very agile during our last engagement, and defeated both our Evangelions without suffering any casualties. I have read both of your reports, and concluded that the enemy exploited a known weakness in the Evangelion."

"Yes, yes, it is blind to the rear, everyone knows that." von Zeppelin interjected at once, "That is why you have more than one unit or supporting infantry to cover the blind spots. Obvious." She glared at Shinji and gave a little huff of annoyance. "Come to think of it," she continued, seizing on this new topic, "where _is_ the Army in all this? Even if the enemy comes from the sea, surely the defense of the land falls to the Army." Shinji translated dutifully. Ryouji looked at him, then at von Zeppelin, making an expression like someone watching a man iron a penguin. Shinji privately agreed. It was so obviously stupid that it was actually hard to make a coherent reply as to why.

"The Army," Ryouji finally said in measured tones, "has informed us that they would prefer not to be involved in Navy operations after the battle of August the First, which cost them most of their heavy artillery. If I decide that the Evangelions need support, it will be provided by the Special Naval Landing Force." His voice made it clear that he considered the discussion over. Von Zeppelin narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

"Therefore, both Evangelion pilots - that means you - will train to act as a cohesive unit and learn how to effectively cover each other's backs. Since the movements of the Evangelion are modelled off of a human's, it has been decided that dancing is the best method to achieve that level of coordination." Von Zeppelin narrowed her eyes and made a face as if she was trying to dislodge a grain of rice that had gotten stuck between her teeth. "Frankly", she began and Shinji mentally prepared himself, "I don't see the reason. There are proper procedures to train coordination between Evangelions, we don't need this-" she made a dismissive gesture towards the blackboard-" 'dancing' stuff."

"And those procedures can be learnt in a few days?" Shinji asked, knowing that his superior would undoubtedly have asked the same question.

"Depending on the level of training of the pilots involved, yes" she answered and narrowed her eyes at him. He knew what was coming now. "So, Ikari, how much multi-unit training have you done?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet. For a second, he considered telling her that he had extensive knowledge of them and had, in fact, written the respective training manual, just to see her reaction. But considering that his life was on the line, he decided to go with the truth after all.

"None" he said and noted with some satisfaction that her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Why did he enjoy getting a rise out of her so much? "Baka" she muttered under her breath, then turned to the captain. "Objection withdrawn" she said with the air of someone facing a thankless and disgusting task, "although once again it is your deficiency that stands in the way." In the interest of international relations, Shinji opted not to translate the second part.

"Right." Ryouji said, shooting Shinji a questioning glance that he decided to ignore, and turned to the blackboard. "You'll train in a variety of dances. The goal isn't to get you to learn one specific set of movements, since the battlefield is a chaotic place and the enemy's movements can't be foreseen. Instead, we'll work on getting you two used to each other's movements." He turned around with two small books in his hands. "These contain the dances that I expect you to master in the coming week. After that, we should have three days to train the whole thing with the Evangelions" he said and handed each of them a book. "Make no mistake about it. We've only got one shot at this, so we _have __to _get it right the first time."

"You have the rest of the day to learn the steps." he said, looking at each of them in turn. Von Zeppelin gave a little huff as if she considered the whole thing nothing more than an annoyance designed to inconvenience her personally. "You will be back here tomorrow morning at 0900 hours. Dismissed."

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet__, __Junior __Officer __Housing __Area_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 16, 1915, __late __afternoon_

The setting sun cast its rays across the base, giving the buildings a reddish glow. Shinji had always enjoyed these moments of peace, and in the last few months, he had come to appreciate them even more. He was in no particular hurry to return to his room, after he had spent most of the day memorizing the steps in the little book he had been given. He had even tried to move through them, after he had found a secluded spot.

He wondered how anyone could look graceful doing it, since he had thought he had looked completely ridiculous. Perhaps it was different with a woman. The thought made his stomach clench painfully. Knowing von Zeppelin, she would probably have extensive dancing experience, and she would make sure he knew it, too.

"Oh! Lieutenant!" a woman's voice called out. He looked up and mentally scolded himself. Eyes on the horizon, the teachers at the academy had always said, and stop staring at your shoes. When he noted the brown hair and the Army uniform, he found himself cracking a smile.

"Still an Ensign, I'm afraid." he said and saluted. Kirishima turned around in surprise, as if she expected to find a higher officer standing behind her, then returned the salute with a sheepish smile. For a second, Shinji felt an unfamiliar, confusing sensation somewhere below his navel.

"I keep saying, they don't reward excellence in the Navy," she said, "I can't believe they're keeping you at the lowest rank even now." Shinji shrugged. His was not to reason why. Then he noted a large duffel bag by her feet.

"So, Lieutenant, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here?" he said, folding his hands behind his back in the casual at-ease stance that had the completely unintended side-effect of subtly disabusing her of the notion that he might carry it for her. It was one of the tricks one learned in the Academy, where the senior students had almost total power over their juniors.

"Well," she said with a warm smile, "Someone higher up decided that the coordination between Army and Navy needed some work, and with that setback you guys had a few days ago, the Navy was forced to accept a liaison officer." She looked at him apologetically. A part of him noted that she had used the word 'setback' instead of calling it what it was, a disaster. Normally, an Army officer would have taken the opportunity to rub it in - he would certainly have done so. Perhaps not to her, specifically.

"That will surely be helpful, especially with the Army holding the enemy in place." he answered carefully. "I'm looking forward to working with you." He was answered with another smile that made him feel slightly strange. He couldn't quite place the feeling, although he was suddenly quite aware that his uniform wasn't sitting quite as well as it should. He wondered if he should straighten it.

"Thank you. I promise you, I'll do my best to get you all the support the Army has to offer!" she said. Shinji felt laughter bubble up inside him. Part of him wondered what was happening. For a moment, he actually felt as if spending more time with the Lieutenant would be a real treat. Then he remembered that he still had to prepare for tomorrow.

"Well," he said, "I guess I can't ask for more than that. Now, ma'am, if you'll excuse me..." He turned to leave. Right at that moment, one of his roommates came out of the building. Aida spotted them immediately and drew himself to full height.

"Oh, Lieutenant!" Kirishima called out from behind Shinji.

"Ensign" he reminded her. His roommate threw her a parade-ground salute. But for some reason, Shinji noted a flicker of annoyance pass over his roommate's face. This was surprising, since Aida was not the type to be annoyed about any female company at all. But he knew better than to ask.

"Lieutenant...Kirishima, was it?" Aida said, looking every bit the exemplary soldier. It was almost too comical to Shinji to keep a straight face. Aida usually complained incessantly about the endless drills he was subjected to every day as part of the Navy's Junior Officer Reserve. Kirishima smiled at him, and another pang of that unfamiliar feeling went through him. He frowned slightly. He wasn't...jealous, was he? No, he decided, that would be silly. But suddenly he didn't feel quite as willing to spend more time here. He had a battle to prepare, after all.

"Lieutenant," he said curtly, nodded, and left them behind.

"So, er, do you need help with your bag, ma'am?" he heard Aida ask, and wondered quietly how close he had come to sharing that fate. Women made such strange creatures of men.

He made his way up into their room. Suzuhara was there, but he looked nothing like his usual self as the imperturbable SNLF candidate. He was obviously greatly agitated, marching up and down the room, wringing his hands nervously and peering into the small mirror on the table. He adjusted the cap on his freshly-shaved head, looked again, and pushed his uniform cap back into its old position. Shinji observed him with growing amusement, until he realized what had been bothering him about the sight.

"You know, I don't mind lending you my sword, but I'd rather you asked me first" he said in measured words.

Suzuhara jumped at his voice and turned around, a smug grin on his face. "No need for that, now" he said. Suddenly, his nervousness seemed to have been replaced by arrogant confidence. He appeared downright glad for the opportunity to get his mind off whatever was bothering him. Shinji frowned. He would have expected at least an appeal to the duties of one Ensign to another, rather than blatant theft.

Then his eyes fell on the sword leaning against Aida's night table, and he understood.

"They finally came through for us. Took them damn well long enough." Suzuhara said, turning back to the mirror and adjusting his cap once again. "You know, I don't particularly like Germans, but I am thankful for you taking us along for the ride." Finally satisfied with his appearance - or at least resigned to its inadequacy - he stepped away from the mirror. "Sword at my age, now Hikari _has_ to agree" he said, more to himself. He didn't sound as if he fully believed it, and privately, Shinji thought his doubts well-founded. From what he had gathered over the weeks, the girl didn't seem to be someone who could easily be pressured into something they didn't want.

Suzuhara left, and Shinji quietly wished him the very best of luck. He would certainly need it.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Base__, __Hangar __Two_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 17, 1915, __morning_

Hangar Two had been set aside for their training, while the crews in Hangar One worked around the clock to restore their Evangelions to operational status. They stood next to a dinky record player which had mysteriously appeared there over night. Von Zeppelin studied it with a bemused interest, and Shinji could not shake the feeling that she considered it something of an historical artifact that was interesting to look at from an engineering standpoint, but which served no useful purpose anymore. He had the distinct impression that it had been requisitioned from the home of an Admiral or an officer's mess somewhere. The Imperial Navy didn't actually possess such items, opting to spend the money on things that were better at killing people. A record player was considered an undue luxury that only made the sailors weak, insolent and quite possibly homosexual. Which was to say that every Admiral had one.

He had spent the night in a state of growing apprehension. His roommates had returned late, both quiet about their respective experiences. It had suited him fine. Shinji hadn't really wanted to talk anyway. Not with the prospects looming ahead.

Von Zeppelin glared at him as if she was expecting something. Of course, he reminded himself, he was the man, so he had to lead. Or something to that effect. Dancing, from what little he had seen of it, seemed to be designed to give young men like him an opportunity to look extraordinarily foolish.

If the fate of Japan hadn't hung on it, he would have refused the dance. At least that was what he told himself, because he could not deny that there _was_ a certain attraction to the thought of dancing with von Zeppelin. She seemed to have taken - and subsequently broken - the hearts of most of the younger sailors on the base, and now she had been on his mind a lot lately. He tried to reason it away as being perfectly normal, since they worked so close together and in the same profession, but recently he had started to suspect that this was perhaps not all there was to it. And that thought disturbed him greatly. Even if he entertained the frankly absurd notion that she might feel the same about him, there were dozens of very good reasons why any kind of courtship was a terrible idea.

First among them the simple fact that she hated his guts.

"Can we get on with it _today_, or do you need an extra invitation?" she spat, and any tender feelings that may have snuck into his mind vanished like an unattended bowl of rice in the Academy's messhall.

Shinji took a deep breath and took his position in front of her. Her blue eyes were cold as ice as she locked them onto his. Not one muscle moved in her face. Asuka von Zeppelin looked ready to kill. His hand gripped hers, the other went to her waist, and for a split second he saw something unidentifiable in her eyes, too fleeting for him to really catch. Then her mask of iron professionalism and cold efficiency was back in place.

He briefly wondered how he ever could have harbored even a sliver of a hint of a shadow of attraction for her, and preemptively gave his condolences to the poor man doomed to become her husband.

The music started to play, and they started to move. It was so much harder than the book described it. He desperately tried to remember how the steps went, as von Zeppelin seized the initiative and dragged him through the motions. He tried to keep up, but after a few seconds he was hopelessly lost and just tried to keep his footing. He looked down to try and avoid stepping on her feet, reasoning that it would be better not to annoy her too much.

Then she shoved him.

He sputtered in confusion, trying to properly articulate his utter lack of understanding why. She slapped him, her face suddenly transformed into an expression of sheer, unbridled fury.

"You tried to look down my blouse!" she roared, "Unbelievable! Here I am, going out of my way to help you make up the _gi__gantic_faults in your training and you go and ogle me like a ten-Franc whore! The nerve!"

She took a deep breath to continue her tirade, when Shinji seized the opportunity to get a word in edgewise.

"There wasn't much to look at!" he shouted back, realizing as the words left his mouth that he had just made a major mistake. He should have been reasonable about this, should have pointed out his true intentions and worked to salvage the situation.

But on the other hand, she should have given him the benefit of the doubt, he reasoned.

Von Zeppelin's face took on an impressive shade of red, like an overheated kettle ready to burst. Never before had he seen such sheer, unbridled hatred in someone's eyes. The second slap followed instantly, and Shinji privately admitted that he might have deserved it. It had certainly been predictable.

Von Zeppelin stomped off to the rear of the hangar, growling curses and hissing in German like an ill-tempered teutonic cat. Shinji decided to give her some time to cool off and went to leave the hangar.

As he was about to leave, he came face to face with Captain Ryouji and Lieutenant Hyouga. The former gave him a grim look, while the latter watched them with both eyebrows raised. Neither of them moved as he walked past them. Only when he was almost around the corner did he hear the Captain's weary voice.

"Can you believe that these people are supposed to win the war?"

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet__, __Junior __Officer __Housing __Area_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 17, 1915, __late __evening_

His face still burned, as did the rest of his body as he finally crawled into bed. In Von Zeppelin's defense, she had eventually cooled off slightly and accepted his explanation that he had not tried to insult her modesty by looking down her shirt. Shinji did, however, elect not to go back on his comment about her figure, since it would have been hard not to sound lecherous about it, and he had a good idea what she did to people she considered perverts.

But that did not mean that they had made any progress in their training. Von Zeppelin still raged constantly about his inability to keep up with her, and she seemed utterly unwilling to slow down even the slightest bit for him. To some degree, Shinji even accepted her reasoning, but he wondered if there was any point to it when the difference between their abilities was so great. There was just no way he could match her pace in just nine days.

Sighing deeply, he rolled over to try and get some sleep. He would need every ounce of strength come tomorrow.

"Girl trouble, eh, Ikari?" came Suzuhara's voice from the darkness.

Shinji said nothing. He quietly grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his head, trying to ignore his roommate.

"You can tell us, you know. It's the _German_, right? I thought I saw you two together, but I must have been wrong, because you were _dancing_."

"_Dancing_?" came Aida's voice from the other end of the room.

Shinji gave a mental groan. "It's classified." he said, hoping to forestall any further questions. Of course, he might just as well have asked the tide not to come in.

"Classified? _Dancing__?_" they chimed in unison.

"That has to be the worst lie I have ever heard. Look, Ikari, if you don't want to admit that you are into her, maybe you should come up with a better story." Suzuhara said. "You don't gotta worry, we're an easy-going bunch here. I mean look at Aida, he has a thing for _Army_ girls." he continued, sounding like he was telling him about one of life's greatest perversions, like the notion that fishheads weren't fit for eating.

"Its not like that..." the young man in question replied weakly, "She's just...look, she doesn't know anyone else here, and we're all on the same side, right?"

"Certainly, certainly" Suzuhara said, somewhat absentmindedly.

Aida rallied for a counterattack. "Besides, who are _you_ to hand out advice? You proposed _twice _and you were turned down _twice_!"

"I wasn't _turned __down_!" Suzuhara countered angrily, "She said she needed some time to think it over!"

"That's pretty much the definition of turning you down."

"I just don't get it." Suzuhara continued as if he hadn't heard the last comment, "What is her problem? If she doesn't want to, why can't she say that?"

"Women." Shinji offered. It seemed like the logical thing to say. It had been the standard reply for this kind of question back at the Academy. Women were fundamentally unknowable creatures which could not be understood using common logic.

"Exactly." Suzuhara said before rolling over, obviously considering the discussion finished.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Base__, __Hangar__ Two_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 19, 1915, __morning_

It was not going well, that much was obvious. Von Zeppelin had already arrived in a foul mood, and his apparent incapability of improving overnight had not helped matters. Now she was once again dragging him around while he stumbled about helplessly,glancing down to avoid her feet every other second. Her eyebrow had started to twitch, and he knew that an eruption was only minutes away. But like a man seeing an out of control steam engine barreling down the tracks, he could do nothing but watch and try to stay out of its way.

The fact that Captain Ayanami and the German copilot were with them today didn't make it any easier. Shinji could feel his face heat up with every misstep. He had to look completely idiotic, he thought, and wondered what deity he had offended to suffer this fate.

The other two had looked on in indifference and amusement, respectively, at first. Then the German had said something to Captain Ayanami, and within minutes they were sweeping across the hangar floor in a display of perfect synchronization. It was maddening to watch.

Captain Ryouji walked in, and Shinji wondered if today could possibly get any worse. As was usual with such questions, fate quickly provided an answer. The frown on the Captain's face deepened as his eyes moved between the two pairs in the hangar. Shinji could see why: their compatriots seemed infinitely more capable than them. He could only hope that the Captain remembered that the dancing was just the means to an end. Their dancing performance was, after all, not representative of their fighting ability.

"Ensign Ikari!" he shouted, not looking his way. His eyes were fixed on Captain Ayanami's swirling form.

Shinji gladly took the opportunity to get away from his partner, who was only seconds away from a renewed outburst.

"Sir?" he asked, holding himself ramrod straight. If Academy had taught him anything, then this was a situation wherein one should give his superior no opportunity to find further fault.

Ryouji frowned even deeper, practically scowling by now, and wordlessly held out a slip of paper. Shinji took it. It was a radio transcript, and the contents chilled his blood.

_Enemy __is __moving __again __and __engaging __our __forces__. __All __weapons __show __no __effect__. __We __will __hold __until __the __last __man__. __We __only __pray __that __our __sacrifice __will __be __enough__._

_Nippon__ - __Banzai__!_

"That's from the 44th Infantry Division." Ryouji said absentmindedly "We haven't heard from them since. A recon flight reported a lot of smoke at their last known position, but no bodies. Just a lot of red mud. The radio transmission broke off just after they claimed to have seen the creature moving."

"So..." Shinji began, but found his throat painfully restricted, "they're all...gone?" His eyes ran over the few lines again and again, his mind trying to grasp what he was reading. "Just like that?" They were last words of dead men. He tried to remember what the authorized strength of an infantry division was supposed to be. He had learned it at some point, he was sure of it. But now, all he could remember was that it had been in the thousands. There would be survivors, no doubt, a few men here and there who had fled rather than face an equally certain - but, a part of him noted, at least honorable - death or who had the luck of being injured early on. But the point was academic and only a small comfort. Thousands of men had been wiped out in a few, short, brutal moments. And a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him that it had been his fault, at least partially. Had he done his job right the first time, they never would have seen the enemy. Back at the Academy, they would joke about this defeat or that setback the Army would have just suffered in China, secure in the knowledge that _they _were much better suited to defend Japan. But now, even though it had been the Army that had suffered this defeat, he found it impossible to feel the least amount of satisfaction at their failure. Not when thousands of his countrymen lay dead. The very idea of gloating about it made him sick to his stomach.

Ryouji nodded. A glance at his face showed Shinji that he was deep in thought.

"This cuts our training time well short." he said, "We can expect them to be here in two days, maybe sooner. The 63rd Independant Engineering Regiment is trying to delay them, but we both know that won't stop them for long." He waved to von Zeppelin, who stomped over to them, impatience radiating off of her in waves. She looked from one of them to the other, challenging them to finally tell her what this particular instance of stupidity was all about.

"Ikari, would you ask her if her copilot has been trained as an Eva pilot?" he said, not looking at either of them.

Shinji could guess what he was thinking, and he was certain von Zeppelin would, too. "Sir, with due respect, neither of them has actual combat experience as a pilot..." he began, but the Captain cut him off.

"A translation, Ikari, if you please" he said. His tone permitted no further argument.

Resigned to his fate, he tried to make it sound like it was mere curiosity, but von Zeppelin saw through it in an instant.

"'That' is not going to happen." she said in a low voice. At once, the hairs on his neck were standing at full attention. This was different from her earlier bluster, which he now realized had been largely for show. She was _truly _angry this time. He would have actually preferred it if she had started screaming again. Now she just looked at him with utter contempt in her still-beautiful, ice-blue eyes. "I'm _not _losing _my _unit because _you _are too dumb to walk in a straight line" she said, punctuating her words by the stabbing of her finger into his chest. She blew past them, and disappeared from the hangar.

"I suppose that answers that question." Ryouji said dryly, not even waiting for a translation. "Captain Ayanami: a word, if I may" he continued, turning towards her. Shinji took that as his cue to leave.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Base_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 19, 1915, __midday_

He hadn't planned on ending up here. His feet had carried him almost by themselves, and now he wondered if it had been fate. If it was, then fate seemed to think him a glutton for punishment.

She was striking, he had to admit. She was standing on the small hill from where one could survey most of Tokyo. Silhouetted against the blue sky, her arms folded over her chest, she was the very image of a General overlooking the battlefield. All that was missing was her army. Still, it would make for a good propaganda picture, he thought. Japan and Germany, standing united against all foes. Japan, of course, would be represented by an intrepid, young and reasonably handsome Japanese Navy Ensign, not unlike himself...

"Have you come to beg, or to gloat?" she asked icily.

Shinji looked down and found that he was still clutching the dispatch. It only served to underscore his frustration. Somewhere out there, thousands of corpses littered the fields and roads in a fashion the newspapers would almost certainly describe as cherry blossoms fallen in the spring. But Shinji couldn't find the poetry in it. They were dead, and he was reasonably sure that they would prefer to be alive. And now here they were, doing nothing

"You know, I don't understand you." she said, and Shinji made a rather unmanly sound of surprise.

Von Zeppelin stalked closer to him, her eyes burning holes into him. "And what I don't understand is _why__._"

"Excuse me?" Shinji answered, trying to properly convey just how confused he was at the moment.

"Why are you here, Ensign? You aren't trained, and you don't train. You aren't even trying! You just go through the motions and expect that to be enough!" Now she was looming over him, and her index finger stabbed him in the chest in a gesture that was quickly becoming characteristic in their conversations. "You are holding us back, and you know it! And the worst is that you Just. Don't. Care."

"It's not like I volunteered-"

"So who cares? You were given a job, and you are trying to weasel through with the least amount of work! That is exactly what got us into this mess!"

Shinji's hands balled into fists. After several days of berating and, occasionally, slaps, his patience had, at last, reached its end.

"Well, _your _job was to try and coordinate with me. And all you've done is show me that I can't keep up" he almost shouted. Now the pressure valve had opened fully, and he was not going to slow down. "It's always the same with you! I make the _tiniest _mistake, and you don't even try to correct me! Instead it is just 'Oh, Ensign Dumbass made a stupid again! Let's hold it over him for the rest of the week to show everybody how much better I am!' This isn't about dancing or training at all, this is about me making you not look good for a change!"

She recoiled as if he had struck her, and for a moment he considered an apology. Then she started talking again, and the thought vanished like a cadet making jokes about the Emperor.

"Why should I slow myself to your level? Your Captain is right; if you can't keep up with me, you should be replaced!"

"You don't even want anyone to keep up with you!" he roared back,no longer caring if his words made any sense at all.

"Oh, listen, the Ensign is already making up excuses _again__!_" she spat back, and Shinji's hand involuntarily moved to where the hilt of his sword should have been. Gripping the air broke him out of the red haze he had charged himself into. He was breathing heavily through painfully clenched teeth. His blood pounded in his ears, and, as if from somewhere far off, the pain of his fingernails digging into his palms reached him.

"Look at this, Lieutenant, " he said with all the restraint he could still muster, holding out the crumpled piece of paper. She glanced at it and sneered.

"Oh, _good_, our intrepid hero is trying the 'Message from Mommy' thing _again__-_"

"LOOK AT IT!" he screamed. For a long, silent moment they both stared at one another. Even the wind seemed to have made itself scarce, as if it didn't dare disturb them. She made no move to take the note from him, nor did she even acknowledge its existence. Her eyes remained on his face, burning into his as if she thought she could read his mind if only she bored deep enough. Gradually, the sneer faded and was replaced by a frown. Shinji took a deep breath and continued.

"It says the enemy is moving again and will be here in two days. The division that was holding it in place was practically destroyed to the last man. That means thousands of families in Japan will never see their loved ones again, and thousands more will die the same, stupid way unless we kill that thing. We're the only ones who can do that, you know that every bit as well as I do!" Still, she said nothing. If it hadn't been for the deepening frown on her face, he might have suspected that she was ignoring him. He closed his eyes and fought down the urge to just strangle her into submission. Not that it'd necessarily help them win the battle, he told himself. He needed her conscious and, preferably, cooperative. Taking a few deep breaths, he summoned every ounce of professionalism he had in him. "We have to defeat the enemy. And that means we have to work together. So if you need me to beg, then _I__will__._"

She said nothing. For a moment, he was almost convinced that she would call him on it. He would have to get on his knees and beg her to help him. Only minutes ago it would have sounded preposterous, but now things had changed. If the survival of the nation was at stake, what was a little humiliation? The Emperor demanded that he gave his life if so required, so he certainly demanded that he would bear the shame of begging a foreigner to help him after he had failed. And besides, who could tell how Captain Ayanami and the German copilot would fare? It was not the time to throw untested pilots into the fire. Not with the survival of Japan at stake, as well as his own.

To his surprise, she finally held out her hand. He eyed it suspiciously for a long moment, then took it. Her grasp was surprisingly strong.

"I want a promise, Ikari" she said without breaking eye contact even for a second. He couldn't have looked away even if he had wanted to. "I want you to promise me that you will do whatever it takes to win, and won't stop until you do."

He nodded, and for the first time, she gave him a smile without sneering. It was a disturbing sight, to say the least. He had always thought that the sneers, the insults and the abuse were all there was to her, but now it seemed like he would have to reconsider. Perhaps, and it was a _Perhaps_ with a capital P and in mental italics, he could grow to get along with her after all. "If you'll promise the same." he said at last.

"Of course. Now, Ensign, let us go, and set this world ablaze." she answered, and walked right past him. "Get moving, we have much to do."

Together, they made their way back to the hangar. Inside, Captain Ryouji was overseeing their copilots. Now that they were designated as primary pilots, they seemed a little less confident and easy going. With some satisfaction, Shinji noted a few missteps between the two of them that made them look a good deal less graceful. With even greater satisfaction, he noted the deep frown on his superior's face. Perhaps he, too, was wondering if it was such a good idea to have inexperienced pilots take the one shot they had at stopping the enemy.

Still, it would take some convincing to get the Captain to change his plan. In any training scenario, Shinji wouldn't have minded to take a backseat - literally - but now he was committed to ensure that they would be the primary pilots. On the way back, he had realized that he had inadvertently blurted out a major issue: they were the only ones who could be expected to stand against these monsters, and still survive to fight another day. It was madness to give new pilots their first taste of combat in such a high-stakes situation. To let Ayanami take the pilot seat meant that he would be reduced to giving strongly-worded suggestions. Whether he liked it or not, he was the most capable pilot they had, and thus, paradoxically, the one who should be sent to fight the most dangerous battles. At least in the pilot's harness, he could control his own fate and trust his own skills to keep him alive. A tiny voice in his head noted that he might still fail and that he might spend the last few precious seconds of his life regretting that he would have pulled Ayanami into this, but he squashed it instantly. Furthermore, he told himself, he could not go back on his promise to von Zeppelin, either. For some reason, the idea of disappointing von Zeppelin seemed downright horrifying. He did a mental double take at the thought, but then decided that what he had _really _meant was that he was unwilling to give her the satisfaction of having been right about him, or that he wanted to avoid the gruesome death that awaited all who failed her.

Thus fortified, he went to see the Captain. Ryouji seemed still to be pondering his decision, else he would have left already. Shinji decided to seize the opportunity.

"Sir, with due respect, about the assignment of the Evangelions..." he began. His superior said nothing, but did turn to face him. "I do not mean to undermine Captain Ayanami's courage or her skill, but she has not yet piloted an Evangelion in combat." Ryouji remained silent, his expression giving no hint of his thoughts. "And therefore, I believe that we - that is, the Lieutenant and I - should be the primary pilots. We should use our most experienced personnel in this critical operation, and that'd be us" he said, then added "Sir" almost as an afterthought.

Ryouji looked out the hangar doors. "Have you ever been in a battle that wasn't critical?" he asked rhetorically. After a moment, he nodded. "Very well. I will make the final decision on the crews before we deploy."

Seemingly satisfied with his indecision, he strolled out the door. Shinji returned to von Zeppelin, who was already tapping her foot in impatience.

"He said that he'd think about it" he told her. Von Zeppelin huffed a little, and Shinji found himself relieved not to be the target of her ire for a change.

"Then let's make him rue that he ever doubted us." she said and grasped his hand.

Again, they faced off against one another. This time, however, there was only determination in her ice-blue eyes. Still, Shinji wondered if their alliance would survive his first mistake.

Von Zeppelin started to move, and he tried his best to follow. Instinctively he glanced down to avoid her feet. Abruptly she stopped, her hand left his, and out of an instinct born from hours of repetition, he tried to get out of her reach in time before the inevitable happened. The sting of her slap told him that he had failed, as he always had. So much for teamwork.

"What was that for?" he shouted, rubbing his cheek.

"You looked down!" she snarled, somewhat unnecessarily.

"I was just trying not to step on your feet!" he answered, growing more frustrated by the second. Already, he wondered how he had ever even considered the possibility that she might actually mean her promise.

"How are you ever going to learn if you keep holding back to worry about me! Why do you have to try and think for the two of us when you can't even think for yourself? Clearly, it should be _me_ who worries about the feet, because you are obviously too _dumb _to-"

"_Fine_!" He grabbed her hand and her waist before she could finish her sentence, determined to wipe that smirk of her face and make her eat her own words. If she wanted her feet to be stepped on, who was he to deny her? Part of him suggested, wearily, that maybe he should be more reasonable, but he was too far gone to care.

He started to move, quite deliberately aiming for her feet, which was surprisingly hard without looking down. Impossibly, he found nothing but the floor beneath his shoes. Von Zeppelin's smirk grew with every step as she effortlessly evaded him, her smug and nigh-infuriating grin causing his cheeks to burn red hot.

But he could not stay mad at her, not really, when they were suddenly swirling through the hangar as if they had never done anything else. Soon he found himself cracking a smile, almost despite himself. The whole situation seemed just too silly to take seriously. At the same time, the feeling of the girl in his arms was intoxicating in its own right. He had never _really_ noticed just how beautiful she was.

"What happened?" he marvelled aloud as they whirled across the hangar floor, "Why couldn't we do this before?" It seemed so simple, now.

"You never tried to lead", she said smugly. "I always knew that you could never match me in ability, but you never even tried to slow me down enough for you to keep up."

"You could have said something." he answered, annoyed but unwilling to press the issue. It was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth - not that he would have compared her to a horse in her hearing.

She stopped abruptly, and he stepped on her foot. Reflexively he jerked back, and tried to block her slap with his arm before he realized that she hadn't moved at all. "As long as you expect others to tell you what to do, you will never grow up." she said calmly.

Although he could see her point, he still thought that she could have at least given him a hint. Or loaded it with profanities and screamed it in his general direction, as she was wont to do.

"It doesn't matter now, I suppose." he said. "Shall we?"

She curtsied with a mocking grin, and then, they danced once more.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Base__, __Hangar__ 1_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 21, 1915, __long __after __midnight_

He couldn't sleep, but he was used to that by now. The time before battle was always one of great anxiety for him. Somehow, he would always wish that he was given just a little more time, that the looming shadow ón the horizon would not creep closer, yet at the same time, he wanted the waiting to be over and battle to begin so he could move on. It made sleep impossible. His tension would keep him awake, even though he knew that he needed his rest lest he made a mistake born from fatigue that would cost him his life.

Unable to find sleep, and unwilling to hear more of his roommates' preposterous speculation that it was pining after von Zeppelin which kept him awake, he had made his way to the hangar. Had he been challenged on the way, he had planned to make up a story about checking the Evangelion, but he had met no one. The entire base seemed fast asleep.

As he stepped into the hangar, he found the Evangelions crouched and ready, as if waiting to spring into action. The technicians had done their work, and both machines looked better than he had considered possible after such a short time. While they bore the usual dents and marks that combat equipment always had, they appeared as good and ready as they could be. It was calming to think that at least this time, he would not have to fight with an Evangelion half-damaged. His more sadistic side reminded him that his newly-repaired Evangelion hadn't been tested yet, and things had a tendency to break when they were needed most. With battle now only a few hours away, there was no time to run any rigorous test program to find the weaknesses and fix any problems. 'Combat testing', ironically enough, would have to wait until they were done fighting.

The thought of his Evangelion just failing on him, like it had against the second monster, did nothing to ease his anxiety. A sick feeling had taken hold of his stomach, as if it had been gripped by a fist of ice. He paced aimlessly for some time, his mind coming up with new and ever-more exciting ways the battle could go spectacularly wrong, all of which inevitably ending with their defeat and rather gruesome deaths. He found himself gazing up at the still form of his Evangelion and images rose unbidden of its armor in shreds, blood and hydraulic fluid slowly dripping from its body as it lay beaten on the battlefield.

"Can't sleep?" a voice said right behind him.

Shinji gave a yelp and jumped - but it had only been a slight, almost imperceptible jump, or so he told himself. The voice sniggered.

"You." he said, making his disapproval heard. Von Zeppelin grinned evilly. "You snuck up on me." he continued accusingly.

"I did not." she said, slightly amused, "I stomped in here and found you open to attack. Very sloppy."

If he had not seen her smirk in the half-dark hangar, he would have taken her seriously. Shinji, for his part, decided that she _had_ snuck up on him.

"So, Lieutenant, what brought you here?" he said, suddenly aware that he was very much alone with her. A silly part of him imagined accusing her of wanting to see him, but a more reasonable part countered that if she did, she would have looked at the barracks rather than the hangar, and that being beaten to death with a wrench in an Evangelion hangar by an enraged German did not actually count as an honorable death in combat.

He was not entirely sure why he felt deflated by this realization.

Von Zeppelin looked over to her Evangelion. "I'm not entirely sure." she said, "I guess I just wanted to make sure everything was in order. I didn't have time to check on my Eva in the last few days." She slowly, almost hesitantly, paced over to it. "I mean, those technicians could have done anything, right?"

She walked around the giant form, kicking against its metal feet here and there in what, to Shinji's admittedly untrained eyes, looked very professional. For a moment, he considered doing the same, but he feared that he might inadvertently break something, either in the Evangelion or in his own body. While Hyuga clearly did not care for the latter, he would no doubt accuse Shinji of sabotage if anything happened to the former. Breaking the Evangelion _before_ going into combat would be a new record for him, too.

Apparently satisfied, von Zeppelin shot him a look, then mounted the stairwell to the walkway that spanned the hangar in a few fast steps. His eyes followed her as she gracefully walked along the metal floor to reach the entry hatch of her kneeling Evangelion. A light went on inside, and he could see her scramble around, no doubt checking and rechecking the instruments. And, a bemused part of him dryly noted, probably making a list of things the technicians had done wrong.

Still, it was a welcome interruption to see her work, taking his mind of his predicament. He settled down next to the hangar doors. He closed his eyes to listen to the soft and soothing sounds of the base at night, the gentle lapping of the ocean waves against the piers.

Then he was back in the cockpit, strapped tight into the harness, the battle raging all around him. Something heavy fell over the Evangelion, and the sound of thousands of scraping claws filled the cockpit. The dials in front of him showed an empty tank and no hydraulic pressure. He was helpless. He called out for Ayanami, but there was no response. For some reason, he could not turn his head to look for her. The scraping grew more insistent, and a roar of a bloodthirsty beast filled the air. A beam of the brightest light missed him only narrowly, starting a fire in the cockpit of the fallen Evangelion. His heart hammered in his chest, cold sweat clinging to his skin as he realized that his cockpit was now completely open. Hot air blew a terrible stench into his face. He turned his head ever so slightly and saw the mouth of the beast, beset by hundreds of mandibles, stripping aside the tattered remains of the cockpit wall to get to him, to get _at_ him. He tried to recoil, but the harness held him fast. There was no one to release him, the sickly sweet stench of burning flesh filled his nose as he realized that it was _him_ that burned and the maw of the beast was now only inches from his fingers, and he _couldn__'__t __move _and _it __would __eat __him__, __it __would __eat __him __it __would __eat_

Something ripped him from his dream. He stumbled to his feet, vertigo forcing the bile to his throat, and staggered away from the hunched form of his Evangelion as reality slowly reformed. For a moment, he was disoriented, his panicked mind thinking that the battle was already - or still - underway. But then he noticed that the hangar lay once again dark and silent. Von Zeppelin had apparently finished her inspection, because the light in the Evangelion was out. Slowly, his racing heartbeat calmed, and he noted with disgust the feeling of his damp uniform clinging to his skin.

He stood up and stretched, taking deep breaths of the cool night air to banish the last dregs of sleep. The eastern horizon showed a hint of light. It wouldn't be long now. He stepped outside and spotted von Zeppelin's huddled form next to the entrance, leaning back against the hangar wall. Apparently, the Lieutenant had not seen fit to return to her quarters either.

For a while he stood and watched the light creep over the dark horizon. Somewhere out there, the monsters were making their way towards them. Did they even tire? And if so, did they _dream_? It was even more disturbing, he realized, to face these inhuman creatures than other people. Humans, for all their differences, were basically rational people and could be expected to behave in somewhat logical fashion. These monsters could not. The morbid thought occurred to him that this may well be his undoing. That he would take something for granted and suffer for it.

"Say, Lieutenant," he said quietly, "have you ever watched a sunrise and wondered if it would be your last?"

A soft snore answered him, and he felt rather silly. Softly, he stepped closer to von Zeppelin, who slept huddled against the hangar wall. Perhaps she, too, had just closed her eyes for a moment when the exhaustion of the last few days claimed her. He crouched down before her. Now, as her red hair shone in the gentle pre-dawn light, he noticed once again just how incredibly beautiful she could be if she wasn't wearing her trademark scowl. The girl's peacefully sleeping face seemed far removed from the mask of barely-constrained anger she usually wore. Somehow, the smidge of engine grease on her cheek only added a certain kind of interesting exoticness to her. She was not the kind of girl that sat at home and waited for her husband to return. She wasn't _normal_. In fact, she was probably as far from normal as one could get in Japan, but somehow, that made her seem even more alluring. A devious thought snuck into his mind. Should he steal a kiss? His mind warred with itself. No one would ever know. It was the perfect opportunity. They were utterly alone, and it would be a just revenge for all her petty little remarks and the foul trick she had played earlier. He leaned a little closer. Her lips looked so soft, and he wondered how they would feel against his. The voice of reason was only a whisper now.

"Mama..." sighed the girl.

Shinji blinked, the spell suddenly broken. What had he been thinking? There was a certain feeling of disgust, as if he had just tried to take advantage of her. Suddenly, she seemed so much smaller and more vulnerable than the fierce warrior he knew. She seemed almost human in comparison. Asuka huddled herself a little closer. After a moments hesitation, he removed his uniform jacket and put it around her form. It was a rather cold night, after all, and he wouldn't want her to catch a cold.

"Don't worry, Asuka", he whispered, "you'll see her again"

Then he settled to wait. She would no doubt tear his head off if she noticed, so he resolved to recover his jacket before she woke.

_First __Home __Defense __Fleet __Base__, __Hangar__ 1_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 21, 1915, __early __morning_

The first indication that the time had come was subtle. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon when a small plane took off from the nearby air base and flew northeast. Shinji watched it leave with mixed feelings. It was searching for the enemy, of that there could be no doubt. What really clenched his stomach was when it returned only minutes later. It circled over the base for a moment. Then, everything happened rather quickly.

Only minutes later, a horde of technicians descended on the hangar. The Evangelions were given one last checkup, their fuel tanks topped off and the ammunition loaded into their internal guns. This was it, Shinji realized, this was the moment when everything counted. They could not afford any mistakes. Suddenly, the weight of his responsibility seemed to crash down on his shoulders. All these people had worked tirelessly just to give _him_ a chance to fight again and expected him to use this chance wisely. They put their trust in him, as if he was some kind of hero who would deliver them from evil. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to be in the pilot's seat.

It was the nerves, he knew that. He also knew, rationally, that all the arguments he had made - to Asuka and to himself - about why it had to be them in the pilot's harness were still sound. But that thought did nothing to lessen his desire to run away, even as he knew that he shouldn't - mustn't - do it. He was glad that he had not yet had breakfast, because he was certain that he would have not been able to keep it down.

"Great, you look like death warmed over." Asuka hissed at him, "Keep it together or he will take the Evangelion away from you. Don't be stupid about this."

Rationally, he knew that she was right. He could do better than this. He had been in this exact same situation before, and prevailed. Certainly, the stakes in the fight against the cube monster had been higher. The unhelpful part of his mind noted dryly that he was probably the most important junior officer in the entire Imperial Navy right now, and that thought alone made his knees go weak.

"Come on, are you a professional soldier or are you a crybaby?" Asuka whispered again, "I thought the Japanese soldiers were braver than this." The appeal to his patriotism fell on deaf ears.

Captain Ryouji entered the hangar. Shinji felt the blood drain from his face. Using all his strength, he rose up straight. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Asuka giving him a satisfied smile.

"Sir" he said as Ryouji walked up to them. He hoped that his voice didn't really sound as squeaky as he thought it did. The smile on Asuka's face seemed to become a little more forced.

"I want your honest opinion, Ensign. Considering that the fate of our nation will be decided by this battle", the captain began, forcing the ice in Shinji's stomach to contract to a tiny ball of purest coldness, "Do you think that you should pilot?"

It was a show of mercy, his analytical mind noted. He was being given a way out. He could say that he considered Ayanami to be better suited for the role and step down. It would be a minor mark against him in the future, but it could also be interpreted as showing greater devotion to duty than selfish desire to advance his career. And yet he could not bring himself to take it.

Pride, he thought. He possessed the same vice he had accused Asuka of having. There was a lot that could be said about who should and should not pilot in this battle, but at the heart of it, it was pride that made him demand his place. Suddenly, he felt a spark of anger at the Captain. Did he really think him that incompetent? Had he not shown what he could do, time and time again? Was it not his _right_ to face his fate in the position he was best suited for?

"I do, Sir." he said, almost surprising himself. It felt odd. Asuka had been right in that he had tried to muddle through with doing as little as possible. But somewhere along the line, he had picked up a certain pride in his position, and a desire to be recognized for his achievements. Now, faced with the possibility of having that stripped from him, he found that he could not let it go. It also carried the implication that all his carefully crafted arguments, although perfectly sound, had not been motivated so much by duty as they had been motivated by pride. Or, as Asuka would no doubt call it, _honor__._

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He would think about it later, when - if - he had won.

Ryouji nodded. "Good. Make us proud." he said.

After a moment of silence Shinji realized that this had been the extent of the motivational speech.

"He is coming!" a voice shouted from the hangar doors. An excited Ensign Shinji did not know pointed towards something in the distance. Even without a pair of binoculars, Shinji was certain that the little speck on the horizon was the enemy. But it was alone. Where was its partner? Had it succumbed to its injuries? Had one consumed the other to gain its strengths? Did these things even have to eat, given that there was no clear mouth visible? Every question seemed to spawn more questions instead of answers, and so Shinji pushed them to the back of his mind. He needed a clear head, and who could tell what went on in the minds of these brute beasts, anyway?

"What are you waiting for?" Captain Ryouji asked calmly as the technicians scurried off the giant war machines like mice at the sight of a hawk.

Now, finally, the moment had come. He nodded to Asuka, not really knowing what to say. _Goodbye_ sounded far too fatalistic. She nodded back, and the proceeding was closed. Crisis averted. His legs carried him to the entry hatch almost by themselves, and he found that the shaking knees he had had only moments ago seemed gone. At least his body appeared unconcerned.

"Ensign!" Asuka shouted from the other side of the hangar. His head whipped around. For an odd second, his mind wondered if he would get to hear a last-second declaration of love. "Good hunting!" she shouted, and the idea died a largely-unnoticed death. Asuka disappeared into her Evangelion, and Shinji wondered if this was the last he would ever see of her. Somehow, he felt that there was something he ought to have said, but he could not, for the life of him, put it in anything approaching words.

_Northeastern __Suburbs __of __Tokyo_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 21, 1915, __morning_

They moved through the streets as if they were mere pedestrians, and not, as infact they were, giant war machines. The episode in the rice paddies was still on his mind, and Shinji was glad to fight this battle with solid ground under his feet. The fact that he could see the enemy clear across the roofs of the many small wooden buildings helped enormously as well. This time, he would not be taken by surprise. The aircraft of the _Unryu_ airgroup scouted behind the nearby hills while the Zeppelin herself had been stationed over the bay to watch for the other enemy. But so far, no sign of it had been spotted.

Unless, of course, Asuka decided that he had done something to upset her greatly. He was acutely aware of the giant gun her Evangelion carried, and which was no doubt pointed at Unit 1's backside. For the first time, he wished that his Evangelion had a radio set or, failing that, a way to see what was behind him without turning the whole machine around. As it was, he just had to trust her to keep him covered.

The monster seemed utterly unconcerned by their approach, nor did it seem to mind the houses it crushed in its march. To Shinji's surprise, it also did not look like the battles it had fought before had done any lasting harm. There were no scars on its body, no limp in its gait. The enemy seemed every bit as fresh as they were.

He moved down a side street to block its path, taking care not to step on any houses. They were, after all, supposed to keep the damage to the suffering capital to a minimum. The German Evangelion moved on ahead to take up a flanking position so she'd have a clear shot at it without having to worry about hitting Unit 01.

Not that he expected Asuka to care too much about proper target identification. If she hit him, it would be his fault for not reading her mind and getting in the way. As usual.

His enemy approached unconcerned. Indeed, it did not even seem to notice the Evangelion in its path until it almost ran into it. It came to halt perhaps thirty meters away and looked at the obstacle in dull surprise.

"Not particular bright, are we?" Shinji muttered under his breath.

"He does not think as we do" Ayanami interjected from the backseat, as if it was patently obvious. Considering what they were facing, she was probably right.

The enemy seemed to have come to the conclusion that it could just walk around Shinji and continue. Had it really forgotten their last encounter so completely? Shinji backed up rapidly to keep it in front of him, praying that he won't step on his cable. Off to his right, he could see Asuka move into position. When she turned, he lunged forward. The lance dug deep into the enemy's body, bright crimson blood spurting out from the wound as if under high pressure. The monster's terrified wail rang in their ears, but Shinji pressed his attack further. Whipping the Lance up, the two prongs cut through the flesh like it wasn't there. The lance exited the body, and the two halves fell apart. Nothing moved.

Shinji blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. Was that it? Was that all they had trained for for almost a week?

"We are not done." Ayanami said from the rear seat.

"We aren't?" he asked, uncertain. The enemy looked pretty dead to him.

But something was most definitely wrong. He could see no trace of the red orb that was usually so vital in killing these beasts. And Asuka had not lowered her gun one inch. Instead, she approached slowly and kept her weapon trained on the corpse in front of her. Obviously, she did not trust it either. Shinji took a careful step back to assess the situation.

Suddenly, the flesh of the monster seemed to bubble and boil. The gash he had cut into it deepened, until finally the body was completely cut in two. The flesh flowed smoothly into new forms. Suddenly, he found himself facing two enemies, and in an instant, he understood what had happened the last time they had fought.

Compared to the ponderous form he had faced before, these two enemies seemed very quick on the uptake. They moved with astonishing speed, one flanking to the left, one to the right. It almost seemed like it was one mind controlling two bodies. Their split brought him into a difficult tactical situation. To engage one, he would have to turn his back on the other, and it was obvious that this was exactly what they had planned.

For a moment, he dithered between the two. Not for the first time he wished that the Evangelions had a wireless set or some other means to communicate with each other. As it was, all he could do was hope that Asuka would understand his intentions. With a short prayer to whatever deity was listening, he turned to engage the right enemy, leaving the left one to Asuka. At least this way, she would not accidentally shoot him.

He took a few quick steps forward to keep up with his enemy, who continued to move to the right. Every second he expected an attack from behind, a crushing blow that would end it. Yet none came. The red Evangelion had disappeared from his view. Just as he wondered what was wrong, he heard the telltale ripping sound of its gun opening up.

Instantly, the enemy reacted, reversing its course. It sought to pass behind Shinji to attack Asuka from the rear. Shinji knew that he could never catch it if it did, and therefore did the only thing available to him.

With clenched teeth, he drove the Evangelion right against the enemy, ramming the armored shoulder into its soft flesh. The beast staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the sudden attack. Behind him, he could hear the staccato bursts of the German internal machine guns as Asuka grappled with her enemy. It was a comforting sound, telling him that she was still fighting. The first sign of something being wrong would be silence.

He let off a burst of his own guns, more to reassure her than to do any real damage. Then he drove his lance deep into the enemy's body. Screaming in pain, the beast stepped back, tearing itself from the two cruel prongs. Shinji pursued, although his sense of tactics screamed that it was feint, designed to draw him away from his support. But what choice did he have? He could not let the enemy get away, regroup and give them the opportunity to attack again. They had the initiative now, and it would be foolish to just give it up. All he could do was hope that Asuka could keep her opponent occupied for a little while.

The monster tore a path of destruction through the wooden houses. Shinji followed, crushing the wood into an even smaller pulp of splinters. Somewhere in the back of his head, he realized that these had been the houses of real people only minutes before, before their inhabitants had fled to find shelter somewhere away from the battle. Now they were just a minor obstacle as he rammed the massive form of his Evangelion through the path already made by his opponent. The tortuous part of him wondered if all of them had heard the evacuation alarm, or if he was crushing people underfoot at this very moment.

Already, he could see the wounds on the enemy close slowly, the red streams down the flanks of the beast growing thinner and finally stopping. The monster stopped, turned around, and made to charge back towards its companion, who was still locked in the fight against Asuka.

Shinji turned the Evangelion around to follow it. Some distance away, Asuka was having her hands full against her opponent, twisting and turning her heavy war machine with surprising agility to keep him in front of her. Shinji's enemy moved fast, with a wide, sweeping gait that made it impossible for Shinji to catch him. He could only watch as it ate up the distance to its target. He willed the Evangelion to go faster, but already he was feeling rather winded, the harness seeming to grow heavier and more restrictive with every moment.

He could only watch in horror as the monster closed in on her exposed back. In one fluid motion, it raised its clawed hand high and tore through her cable. Asuka's Evangelion froze in midmovement. Instantly her opponent pressed its attack, digging deep grooves into her armor with one powerful swipe. Shinji's heart sank. It was happening again. They were being outfought again. In just a few moment's the battle had turned around completely.

But he had little time to think. There was still hope to turn it around again. The enemy seemed to focus on one of them, ignoring the other. If he could get them to attack him, Asuka might be able to rejoin the fight. Against muscles screaming in pain, he willed himself forward. A push of a button snapped out the armblade. Shifting his grip on the lance to one hand, he crashed into the enemy, digging both his weapons as deep into its body as he could.

The impact rocked the heavy war machine. Metal screamed as the momentum pressed their bodies close together. Outside the cockpit, the flesh of the enemy was close enough to touch, if Shinji had not been strapped into the harness.

The effect was instantaneous. With a powerful push, the monster trapped between him and Asuka's still Evangelion worked itself free, shoving the dozens of tons of metal on each side away without any apparent effort. Then it turned towards Shinji, and he could have sworn that there was a flash of anger on the strange, misshapen thing he assumed was its face.

Shinji recovered easily with a step back. The monster's blood oozed from the deep wounds he had inflicted, painting the ground below a crimson red. Focusing on the enemy in front of him, Shinji could see the other monster slip off to the side from the corner of his eyes. He had achieved his objective. Now he just had to survive. The first attack hit like lightning, making him stagger back again as the Evangelion's thin front armor was ripped apart like it was paper. He could feel the draft of the giant claws as they passed just a few inches under his feet. But thankfully, nothing vital was hit, and he did not feel the harness seize up which would have meant that part of the hydraulics had been hit.

He anticipated the next attack easier, moving his arm with the lance to block it. The strength behind the swipe was still a surprise, forcing him to grip the weapon with both hands. The Evangelion protested with the scream of tortured metal as the two giants grappled with each other. Still, Shinji knew that there was one enemy unaccounted for, moving behind him to strike.

"Captain!" he screamed, "Start the engine and eject the cable!"

Ayanami moved with her usual precision, leaving the Evangelion without a break in power. Shinji felt the great weight of the plug leave the Evangelion, giving him much needed maneuverability. More importantly, he wouldn't be defenseless if his cable was severed. But on the other hand, they were now on a timer, and the fuel gauge in front of him seemed to drain far too quickly.

The roar of a second engine filled the air as the German diesel caught and started up. Instantly, Asuka turned her red Evangelion around. Shinji's blood froze when he saw the muzzle of the giant gun point straight at him. It shifted ever so slightly to the side, and then the sound of a giant dragon roaring filled the air. The tracers missed Unit One by mere centimeters.

Asuka advanced, guns blazing as she drove the enemy behind Shinji back by sheer weight of fire. Still struggling against the monster in front of him, Shinji could not see how close he had come to annihilation, but the sound of liquid splashing against the rear armor made it sound very close indeed. The immediate crisis had been averted, but only for the moment. Despite the puddles of blood forming under their feet, they had not done any real damage to the enemy. And now they were rapidly running out of fuel, and with it, time.

The red Evangelion slipped past his shoulder, and he knew Asuka was probably thinking the same thing he did. They needed a victory, and they needed it soon. Just holding off the enemy was not enough.

Despite being locked in a fierce struggle, he tried to clear his head and approach it logically. To win, they had to destroy the red orbs. It stood to reason that both enemies had one, since he had not seen one in their original, combined form.

Carefully, he shifted his grip on the lance that still blocked the enemy's claw to free up his left arm, which held the blade. Instantly, the metal to his right started to groan as it had to take the entirety of the enemy's strength. For a second, he feared that it would snap clean off, which would no doubt bring this fight to a quick, and probably fatal, end. But for the moment, the arm held, so Shinji pulled back his left and rammed the armblade deep into the enemy's body. He followed it up with a few more quick stabs, but it was obvious that he was only hitting flesh. The blade gave no indication that it had hit anything else. It seemed, indeed, as if the red orb was the only internal organ these things had. Shinji was certainly no expert on anatomy, but it did seem almost impossible to be true. Did these things really have no heart, no lungs, no brain? Not even bones? It would certainly explain their almost unbelievable ability to absorb punishment. They weren't hitting anything important because there was nothing important to hit.

He changed his tactic, cutting through the flesh with quick movements. The right arm was bending dangerously, and the harness dug deep into his skin as it forced his arm to mimic the position. Behind him, the sound of Asuka's gun suddenly cut off. Had she defeated her enemy? Had she run out of ammunition? Was she locked in a deadly hand to hand fight and needed his help? He couldn't know, and he made a mental note to pester Lieutenant Hyuga until he installed something in the Evangelion to communicate. He would even settle for signal flags.

Large slabs of flesh were falling from the enemy, but he did not seem to weaken. And there was no sight of the red orb, either. The monster suddenly swept its free arm up, its claw easily cutting through the blade. In disbelief, Shinji watched the pieces tumble down on the ground below.

The sound of metal nearing its breaking point snapped him out of it, and he brought the now useless hand up to support the lance. His enemy responded in kind, pressing down on him with both arms. He was slowly forced down, and he had no doubts what would happen once they broke free. It would be a split second fight in which he had to bring his lance to bear. He could feel the blood rush to his head. His eyes were glued to the lance, which was forced downwards millimeter by millimeter. Everything around him seemed to slow down as he concentrated on not missing the single deciding moment.

"Fuel for one minute." Ayanami said from behind, sounding as if she was miles away. Her words barely registered in Shinji's mind. In one minute, this fight would be over, one way or the other. It was an odd sense of calm in him, despite the incredible tension. His mind was clear of any superfluous thoughts, as if it had been emptied through a hole. The path was clear, all that remained was the walk.

Although he had not found the red orb, he had found plenty of space where it had not been, and by mere exclusion he could guess the area where it had to be fairly accurately. Unless the two shared only one orb between them, and it was in the other body. But there was nothing he could do about that now, so he pushed the thought out of his mind.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. In a splitsecond, he relaxed his resistance against the enemy, moving the lance down on his own violation. The beast staggered as it pushed against thin air. In a quick motion, Shinji brought the lance level with the monster's chest and pushed forward. The terrified, anguished scream told him that he had struck true. He pulled back his weapon, and the monster sank to its knees, before finally collapsing into a strengthless heap, crushing a few houses underneath.

"Thirty seconds." Ayanami intoned.

It had not seemed as long to Shinji, but it now time seemed to fly. The lumbering form of his Evangelion seemed to move extremely slow as he turned around to engage the other enemy. Before him, a battlefield of apocalyptic destruction appeared. While he had been fighting only a few meters away, Asuka and her opponent had turned the area into a slaughterhouse. Her giant gun was gone, its parts strewn across the field, sticking out of the wooden roofs of ruined houses. Here and there, fires sent up oily black smoke. The whole area was painted a deep crimson red, and he suddenly realized that it was all blood. Even the German Evangelion wore a new coat of red paint, severals shades deeper than before and slowly dripping to the ground.

Asuka had been forced to start up her engine earlier, and as he watched, her movements suddenly froze as her Evangelion ran out of fuel. However, her opponent was in an even worse shape. Shinji did not know if it was the damage she had done to it or the shock of seeing its companion die, but the monster seemed to behave erratically even for its not particularly predictable kind. Its arms were swinging wildly, slashing thin air while it staggered around. It let out a piercing, wailing scream that rattled Shinji's bones even inside the Evangelion.

He moved closer, now very conscious of his empty tank. His Evangelion slipped in between the two former adversaries, shielding Asuka from any attack the desperate beast might make. He came to rest just in front of her still Evangelion. He didn't dare to push his machine any further, opting to preserve the fuel fumes in his tank to power the arms instead of the legs. The enemy was well within range, anyway.

Shini knew he likely had only one attempt. The monster was still slashing wildly through the air in wide, unaimed swipes. After seeing the two of them coordinate so well just moments ago, it seemed a little pathetic, but Shinji pushed any thought of mercy out of his mind. He aimed carefully at the swinging chest of his opponent, and then delivered one perfect, textbook thrust as the enemy turned around. Instantly, its movements ceased, in the same moment Shinji heard the engine choke up and die. If the enemy wasn't dead, they were doomed, but the corpse skewered on the lance did not even twitch. Gravity alone let it slide slowly closer, down the shaft of the lance, until its massive form came to rest against the Evangelion's body.

Then, to his horror, he felt his machine slowly tip backwards, until it crashed against Asuka's machine with a metallic bang. The German Evangelion, though heavier built than the Japanese one, could not keep upright against the combined weight of the two bodies resting against it. Shinji swore softly when he felt the machine shift backwards again.

This time, the drop was much deeper, and Shinji found himself swinging wildly in his harness. At least, he mused, there was no tepid water to fall into this time. One had to accept the small favors that fate handed out.

_Tokyo __Suburbs_

_Tokyo_

_September__ 21, 1915, __morning_

After Shinji had carefully followed Ayanami out through the top hatch and had taken a few steps back, he got his first good look at the disaster. The Evangelions and the dead beast were piled on top of one another like the discarded toys of giants. He anxiously looked over his machine, mentally marking the various things that had been crushed, torn, ripped out, shredded, crushed or plain broken in the fight. Lieutenant Hyuga would no doubt be furious.

Shinji wondered if he could successfully claim that the Evangelion was still in 'one piece', or whether he would have to acknowledge that it as it actually was: one large-ish piece and a lot of smaller ones.

As they were watching, a small hatch on top of the German Evangelion opened. Asuka and her copilot scrambled out shortly afterwards. A simple look at Asuka showed her mental state, and Shinji instantly wished that he had stayed behind the Evangelion's armor.

She was most evidently displeased by the results of the battle. Her head snapped around, and even at this distance her blue eyes seemed to convey a burning desire for violent murder. Not even waiting for her copilot to reach the ground, she marched towards them, every inch of her body screaming anger. He would have to think fast if he wanted to get out of here alive.

"What the hell happened!" she screamed when she was only a few steps away, apparently unable to contain herself any longer.

"We won" he answered. It seemed like fairly safe comment to make. Asuka, of course, disagreed.

"Don't give me that!" she shrieked in his face, "Where the hell were you when those things ganged up on me!"

"Well," he said patiently, "I was pursuing one of them, but he outmaneuvered me..."

"It was an obvious feint." she instantly responded, her tone allowing no argument, "Anyone with a brain could have seen that coming. So _I_ had to go and save you. _Again_."

"'Again'?" he shot back, "When was the first time?"

Asuka threw her hands up in frustration. "Don't change the topic. You owe me."

Perhaps he should let the matter rest and leave her to her delusions, but until the recovery teams arrived, there was little they could do, and the desolate ruins all around them offered few distractions.

"What would I possibly owe you for, Asuka?" he continued conversationally, knowing that this would probably anger her far more than an outright screaming match.

Not least, he mused, because she would most likely win a screaming match.

She reacted as expected. "_Asuka__!?"_ she shouted loud enough to make his ears ring, "When did I become _Asuka_ to the likes of _you__? _Did we marry while I wasn't looking? You will address me as Lieutenant von Zeppelin!"

"Alternatively," her copilot interjected without missing a beat, "_Your __Highness_ or _Mistress _will also be acceptable."

Asuka instantly whirled around to glare at him. "Don't give him any stupid ideas!" she screeched. "And as for you," she continued towards Shinji, "If I find so much as a scratch on my Eva, you will be repainting the whole thing with the smallest brush I can find!"

Slowly, Shinji felt the tension of the last week fade. For perhaps the first time since coming to Tokyo, he actually felt somewhat at ease. More monsters would, no doubt, be coming. But now, for the first time, he felt somewhat hopeful that they could be beaten. Despite everything, he was glad to know Asuka would fight alongside him. If anything, they had shown today that they could work as a team and that they deserved their spots in the cockpit.

But that, of course, did not mean that he had to cut back on anything. Shinji simply could not help himself.

"But of course, _Asuka__._"

**A****/****N****:** And so ends chapter 7. I hope you found it as enjoyable to read as I found it to write. If you did, leave a review. If you did not, please tell me why. Your feedback tells me how to improve. As always, I am deeply indebted to my beta reader, MAI742. The sanity he has lost over the last few months will be missed. I do not know when the next chapter will be ready, although I do hope that it won't be another year.


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